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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8e088f7 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #60495 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/60495) diff --git a/old/60495-8.txt b/old/60495-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 3531d1f..0000000 --- a/old/60495-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7827 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's Miss Billy, by Edith Keeley Stokely and Marion Kent Hurd - -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 -www.gutenberg.org. 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. - -Title: Miss Billy - A Neighborhood Story - -Author: Edith Keeley Stokely - Marion Kent Hurd - -Illustrator: Charles Copeland - -Release Date: October 14, 2019 [EBook #60495] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MISS BILLY *** - - - - -Produced by Emmy, MFR, Linda Cantoni, and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive). This project is dedicated with -love to Emmy's memory. - - - - - - - - - -MISS BILLY - - -[Illustration: "That wasn't the way it happened," said a clear voice -above them. (_See page 67._)] - - - - -MISS BILLY - -A NEIGHBORHOOD STORY - - -[Illustration] - - -_By_ EDITH KEELEY STOKELY _And_ MARIAN KENT HURD - -_ILLUSTRATED BY CHARLES COPELAND_ - - - BOSTON [symbol] LOTHROP - PUBLISHING COMPANY - - -Published, April, 1905 - - - COPYRIGHT, 1905, - BY LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD COMPANY - - -_All Rights Reserved_ - - -MISS BILLY - - - NORWOOD PRESS - BERWICK & SMITH CO. - NORWOOD, MASS. - U.S.A. - - - - -CONTENTS - - - CHAPTER PAGE - - I. NO. 12 CHERRY STREET 1 - - II. MISS BILLY 8 - - III. WAYS AND MEANS 22 - - IV. NEW NEIGHBOURS 37 - - V. A LOAD OF DIRT 44 - - VI. NEXT DOOR 55 - - VII. TRIALS 70 - - VIII. THE STORY OF HORATIUS 86 - - IX. BEATRICE 110 - - X. A BROKEN SIDEWALK 124 - - XI. WEEDS 142 - - XII. LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD 154 - - XIII. HARD LINES 170 - - XIV. TWO LETTERS 188 - - XV. "FRANCES" 200 - - XVI. THE CHILD GARDEN 213 - - XVII. THE LAWN SOCIAL 233 - - XVIII. MARGARET LENDS ASSISTANCE 250 - - XIX. PERSONAL PLEASURE 265 - - XX. FAIR SKIES 285 - - XXI. HALLOWE'EN 296 - - XXII. WAITING 317 - - XXIII. CONCLUSION 330 - - - - -ILLUSTRATIONS - - - "That wasn't the way it happened," said a clear - voice above them _Frontispiece_ - - Page - - "I have a leaning toward an up-to-date stable and - riding ponies, myself" 82 - - "Who are you?" he said 167 - - Marie Jean was gotten up in a style known as - "regardless" 240 - - She was telling him the history of the day 279 - - "All Oi do be nadin'," ... "is a check-rein from - the top av me head to me shoulder blades" 343 - - - - -MISS BILLY - -CHAPTER I - -No. 12 CHERRY STREET - - "The house looked wretched and woe-begone: - Its desolate windows wept - With a dew that forever dripped and crept - From the moss-grown eaves: and ever anon - Some idle wind, with a passing slap, - Made rickety shutter or shingle flap." - - -MARCH had gone out like a roaring lion, and April had slipped -demurely in, armed with a pot of green paint and a scrubbing brush. -There was not much to paint in Cherry Street. A few sparse blades -of grass, tenacious of life, clung here and there to curbstone and -dooryard; but there was plenty to scrub, and the Spring maid fell to -with a will. - -In consequence, on this Saturday morning, the water rushed down the -gutters in torrents, while at the same time the small denizens of -Cherry Street were lifted into the seventh heaven of delight by the -sun's showing his jolly face through the clouds and inviting them -out to wade. To make their happiness, if possible, more complete, a -pine-wood wagon, creaking and groaning under its heavy weight, had -turned the corner by Coffey's saloon and was coming up the street. -The small Cherryites paused in blissful anticipation to watch its -progress, while miniature Niagara cataracts hissed and foamed about -their bare legs. - -History repeats itself, and they argued with reason that when the -driver should reach the end of the block and find it a blind: a -street with no outlet, he would be covered with confusion and beat -his horses and swear horribly in trying to turn around. - -So, as the creaking wagon drew nearer, the youthful Cherryites fled -ecstatically through the cold waters for the parquet seats on the -curbstone nearest the stage, and waited breathlessly for the rising -of the curtain. - -But it was decreed that the Pine Wood Dramatic Company was to play to -empty seats after all, for round the corner by Coffey's loomed a star -of greater magnitude. It was Mr. Schultzsky, landlord and taxpayer of -all Cherry Street, with his humped shoulders and rusty silk hat, his -raw-boned grey nag and a vehicle popularly known as a "rattle-trap." -Not that Mr. Schultzsky was an unusual sight in Cherry Street. -Indeed, he dwelt therein, together with a strange little niece for -housekeeper, who had come from some far-off heathen land; but rent -day, always an interesting event, on this occasion held an added -charm from the fact that Tommy Casey had made it known to all whom -it might concern that his mother intended on this day to utter such -truths to Mr. Schultzsky as would make him tremble on his throne. -Therefore, almost before the iron-grey nag had come to a full stop, -the bare-legged Cherryites, precipitately deserting the Pine Wood -Drama, were gathered in a circle before Mrs. Casey's door awaiting -with fearsome ecstasy the promised crack of doom. - -The Casey house, in the early history of the city, had been a proud -brick mansion of eight rooms, with green blinds, and flower beds -outlined in serrated points of red brick. But the street had risen -above the level of the yard, leaving the old house like a tombstone -on a sunken grave. The old-fashioned porches were dust-coloured and -worm-eaten, the fences fallen away, and the broken window panes -and missing slats of the blinds gave it a peculiarly sightless and -toothless appearance. Like a faithful friend, the old house shared -the fallen fortunes of its early owner, for Mr. Schultzsky had bought -it, as he had come into possession of nearly all his real estate, at -a tax title sale. Now, as he tied his horse and Tommy Casey heralded -his approach, Mrs. Casey with the baby tucked in the curve of one arm -turned the bread in the oven, slammed the oven door, whisked the -dust off a chair, and waited. - -Presently the fickle April sunshine that poured in a broad band -through the kitchen door was shadowed, and the landlord stood at the -threshold. He did not wish Mrs. Casey a polite good-morning: this was -not Mr. Schultzsky's way. Instead, he gave a characteristic little -grunt, and opening an overfed pocket book, produced from among others -of its kind a monthly rent bill, and extended it without further -ceremony. - -Mrs. Casey laid the baby in its cradle, brought her knuckles to her -hips, and invoking the spirit of a long line of oppression-hating -ancestors to her aid, opened the battle. - -"Mr. Schultzsky," she began, her soft Irish half-brogue giving no -sign of the trembling within, "whin we moved here a year ago, there -was promises ye made us that ye've not kep'. The roof is l'akin' -worse than it did then,--the overfillin' of a tub in a bad rain,--an' -me wit' my man a coachman out late o' nights, havin' to get up out -o' me bed wit' the lightnin' flashin' an' lave me wailin' baby to -pull a tub up the ladder undher the roof! The windays are out, six of -thim,--not that we done it, mind you,--the floors are broke,--an' of -the whole eight rooms, foive of thim are not fit for a dacint fam'ly -to live in, wit' the paint all gone an' the paper smoky an' palin' -off. The front gate was gone before we ever came here, an' now the -fince posts has rotted off an' the fince is down. Here is Spring -clanin' on me, an' what can I do wit' a place like this? Fifteen -dollars a month, Mr. Schultzsky, we're payin' ye, an' the money -waitin' for ye as reg'lar as the month comes around. But now what -I have say to ye is this: we'll move the week out onless ye paper -an' paint the five rooms,"--Mrs. Casey counted the items off on her -fingers,--"put in a new kitchen floor, fix the six windays, patch the -roof, set up the fince, an' put a bit o' paint on the porches. It's -not that our place is any worse than the others in Cherry Street, but -the Caseys bein' good pay, an' knowin' it, is goin' to have things a -bit different, that's all." - -Mr. Schultzsky considered. He took off his silk hat, carefully -wiped his forehead with a red cotton handkerchief, and replaced the -antiquated head-covering. He shuffled his rusty boots and thrust his -hands down into the pockets of his shining coat to gain time. His -small black eyes glittered craftily as he mentally added, subtracted, -and struck off the fraction of a per cent. Then he made his decision, -but he said not a word. He took from the recesses of his capacious -coat-tails a red card, some tacks and a small hammer. Without another -look at Mrs. Casey, and with as little regard for the group of -awe-stricken children, he passed around the house to the front door -and tacked up the sign. - -Number 12 Cherry Street was for rent. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -MISS BILLY - - "A girl who has so many wilful ways - She would have caused Job's patience to forsake him, - Yet is so rich in all that's girlhood's praise, - Did Job himself upon her goodness gaze, - A little better she would surely make him." - - -MISS Billy was an early riser. She opened her eyes to the sunshine -and pure morning air as naturally as a flower. So it came about -that at six o'clock of a May morning she was skipping downstairs -before any other member of the family had stirred, with a quick -springing step that was peculiarly her own. Miss Billy's sprightly -locomotion was a constant source of amusement to her family, and -of mortification to Miss Billy herself. "It is my misfortune, not -my fault," she was wont to say when her brother Theodore described -her gait as "galumphing," and her sister Beatrice pleaded with -her to study physical culture; "and it's like struggling against -Fate to attempt to walk with discretion. I suppose it is merely an -'evening-up' of things, and that Providence gave it to me to offset -my lovely disposition." - -But upon this Spring morning Miss Billy's unfortunate step did -not seem to be weighing upon her mind. The glow and thrill of the -golden day opening before her sent the warm blood coursing quickly -through her veins, and the world seemed made for youth and beauty and -happiness. Miss Billy sang softly to herself as she opened the side -door and stepped out into the garden. - -"The garden" was a small shady spot on the north side of the tall -city house. It was not a promising place for flowers, but Miss -Billy's love for growing things was great, and by dint of much -urging and encouragement on her part, a few spring flowers eked out -a precarious existence in the barren soil. Above the flower plot was -an open bedroom window. Miss Billy's eyes twinkled wickedly, and her -soft song changed into the whistled notes of a schoolboy's call. -There was a sound as of two bare feet coming down with a thud in the -room above her, and in a moment a tall form in gay scarlet pajamas, -with a towsled head atop, appeared at the window. - -"That you, Tom?" whispered a sleepy voice. - -Miss Billy looked up from the flowers. The violets themselves were -not more demure than her own face. - -"Oh, hello, Ted!" she said; "Tom's not here." - -"Well, who is?" - -"No one but me." - -"But I heard some one whistle." - -"That was me too," said Miss Billy frankly and ungrammatically. - -"Well, I must say that your joke--I suppose you intended it for a -joke--is extremely crude," replied her brother crossly. - -"You said last night that I couldn't get you out of bed," jeered Miss -Billy. "Beside, I wanted you to see the sun rise. I have seen two -myself, this morning." - -"Well you may now have the pleasure of seeing one go back to bed," -said Theodore. He left the window abruptly, and Miss Billy heard him -thump his pillow impatiently as she turned again to the garden. - -"Ted never has much sense of humour at six o'clock in the morning," -she said, passing her loving hands under the tender green leaves. -"Six blossoms! These are the most modest violets I ever saw in my -life. They're afraid to show their heads above the ground. At this -rate it won't take me long to prepare my floral creation for the -breakfast table." - -There was still no sign of life about the house when she came back -with the flowers, and Miss Billy wondered, as she put the purple -blossoms in a clear green glass bowl, what she should do next. - -"I might practise half an hour," she said to herself, looking in at -the piano as she stood in the hall door,-- - - "'Practicing's good for a good little girl, - It makes her nose straight and it makes her hair curl,' - -"--but my hair is too curly now, and if my nose was straight, people -would expect more of me. Beside, I hate to waste this lovely morning -on scaly exercises. I believe I'll write a letter to Margaret. I feel -in the right mood to talk to her." - -The same peculiar quick-step carried Miss Billy to her desk, where, -dipping a battered-looking pen into the ink, she began:-- - - "1902 ASHURST PLACE. - - "_Dearly Beloved_: - - "I suppose you're just going to bed over in Cologne, - with your hair done up in those funny little curl papers - of yours. Or don't they wear curl papers in 'furrin' - countries? What kind of a place is Cologne, anyway? Do - they make Lundborg's Extract there, and _are_ the exports - 'grain, grapes and beet sugar,' as the geography used to - say? - - "Over here in America I am waiting for Maggie to arise - and prepare our frugal repast, which, from sundry soaked - articles I saw last night, I suspect will mainly consist - of fish-balls. Maggie feels that she has not lived in - vain when she succeeds in getting Theodore to refuse - codfish-balls. It is the only article of food that he does - not fall upon with fork and glee. - - "Speaking of balls, I went to one last night, only to look - on, however. Beatrice's dancing class gave one of their - monthly parties, and I was one of the smaller fry (notice - the connection between fry and codfish-balls) whom they - deigned to invite. Those pale-drab Blanchard girls were - conducting the services--(it's well that father doesn't - inspect my correspondence)--so it's a wonder that I 'got - in' at all, for they detest me. I might add that the tender - sentiment is entirely reciprocated on my part! I wore my - old grey crêpe, and looked superbly magnificent, as of - course you know, Peggy dear. Tom Furnis, who was there, - also occupying a modest and retiring seat in the rear, - mentioned to me during the evening that as soon as you came - home we would have a dancing class of our own. So you see - how everything hangs on your return. - - "Nothing has happened at 'Miss Peabody's Select School for - Young Ladies' since you left except that I have received - numerous invitations to select little functions in the - office, and a choice assortment of demerit marks, and - carried home the following report last month: - - 'Miss Lee's immediate improvement in deportment is - earnestly desired by - - 'Her instructor and sincere friend, - - 'Loutilda Amesbury Peabody.' - - "I did rather dread to take it home, for my report - last month was not exactly suggestive of propriety and - discretion, and I hate to have my people disappointed - in me. But when I showed it to father he said, 'Some - improvement this month, I see, little daughter.' Wasn't - that just like him? - - "Myrtle Blanchard has organised a new school club. It - is composed of the Select Six, who devote themselves to - French conversation and marshmallows once a week, and call - themselves the Salon. Not to be outdone, Madge Freer and - I have started a rival organisation for ping-pong and - fun. We call ourselves the Saloon. We'll have to change - the name, though, as soon as Miss Loutilda discovers its - existence. Can't you imagine her horror! - - "Your description of your Paris gowns did not make me at - all envious, my dear. For Miss Edwards has been making me - three new dresses and revising several old editions. I - have a new brown suit, a scarlet foulard, and a fearful - and wonderful creation of purple lawn embroidered with - pale yellow celery leaves, which I shall wear to every - church supper this year. And I shall come to the station - to meet you next September arrayed like Solomon in all his - glory, in all three of the gowns, in order that you may be - properly impressed, and not outshine me in splendour. - - "I am afraid you won't find, in this frivolous and dressy - letter, the things you most want to know. As usual, my pen - has run to nonsense. But if you were looking for food for - reflection and nourishment of the soul, you would have come - to father for it, instead of me. Sometimes, Peggy dear, I - am ashamed of my aimless, careless existence of eating, - sleeping and skylarking, as Theodore would say. There are - moments of temporary aberration in my life when I wish I - could help some one else. If I were like you, now, who - carry sweetness and serenity with you, I wouldn't mourn, - but alas, I am only - - "Your unregenerate but loyal friend, - - "MISS BILLY. - - "P.S. - - "My suspicions about the codfish were well founded. A - strong and influential odour of breakfast has pushed the - door open for me, and I know it is time for me to descend - into the lower regions. Good-by, dear." - -Miss Billy laid down her pen with a sigh of relief, and wiped her -ink-stained fingers. She had just lighted her little candle and -produced a stick of wax to seal the letter, when a deafening noise -filled the hall below. At the foot of the stairs stood her brother -Theodore, armed with a Chinese gong, upon which he was performing -with great vigour. His boyish tenor rang out clearly: - - "Arise, arise, ye maiden fair, - Golden eyes and azure hair, - Hear your loved one's plaintive calls, - Come to me and codfish-balls. - -"Breakfast waits, Miss Billy. Did you go back to bed again?" - -The family had assembled at breakfast when the younger daughter -entered the dining room, smiling over Theodore's improvised poetry. -"Mother looks more sober than usual," she thought, as she drew the -sweet face to her own. - -"Morning, motherie." - -"Good-morning, little daughter. You left your footprints behind you. -The violets are lovely." - -There was an unsealed letter at Miss Billy's plate, and similar -envelopes for Beatrice and Theodore. Miss Billy opened hers first. It -ran: - - "You are requested to be present at a family meeting to be - held in the study this morning at eight o'clock. Important - matters to be discussed. By order of - - "FATHER." - -The letters excited no comment. They were an every-day occurrence -in the Lee family. If Theodore's unruly tongue caused mischief, or -his love of a joke was carried too far, a delicate reminder at his -plate was sure to call attention to the fact. If Beatrice stopped -for a moment to exchange compliments with her old enemy, Personal -Vanity, or did she pursue an uneven tenor of fault-finding for a -time, a letter was the means of bringing her to order. But upon -Miss Billy,--energetic, wideawake Miss Billy,--who was always doing -things, and doing them hard, the missives descended like flocks of -white doves. These letters did not all contain censure. Some of -them were so full of praise as to make their owner blush with an -embarrassment of happiness, but one could never be sure beforehand of -the contents. - -Theodore was already in the study when Miss Billy entered. He was -stretched out on the floor with two sofa pillows under his head and -four under his feet. - -"Something's up," he remarked sagely. - -"Yes," assented Miss Billy, "and that something had better come -down. Take the pillows from under your feet, Ted." - -"Well, I hope the bank hasn't gone busted, or father's colt been -killed, or anything happened to our government bonds, or Maggie given -warning, or Beatrice plighted her troth to a peanut man. Billy, what -a savage you are! What are pillows for, I'd like to know. I should -think you'd be afraid to treat me as you do. Some day the worm will -turn, and when a belted earl comes to seek your hand I'll expose your -tyranny." - -"Theodore," said Miss Billy, standing very tall and straight, and -with a serious expression on her usually merry face,--"stop joking -and listen. Something _is_ up, really. I've been waiting for it to -come out for a month. Of course I don't know exactly what it is, but -I have my suspicions, and every time I have looked at mother's sober -face I have felt guilty to be happy. Now Ted, if what I think turns -out to be true, I have some plans to propose, and you must stand by -me in them." - -"What do you mean?" asked Theodore, with a boy's disgust for mystery. -"You're talking in parables, Miss Billy." - -"I mean that I'm sure father's lost some money," answered his sister -hurriedly. "I haven't time to explain now; the whole family will -be here in a minute. But when the rest come in, I want you to say -exactly what I say, and uphold me in every way." - -"Well, I like that," gasped Theodore, raising himself on one elbow. -"Say exactly what you say! What do you intend to say, and why should -I play follow-my-leader? No ma'am, I sign no paper before reading it." - -"But you must," insisted Miss Billy hurriedly. "You'll understand -why later. You've got to pull with me. I know how Beatrice will act, -and I'll need an ally the minute her tears begin to flow. I depend -upon you to stand by me, as you always do. Come Ted, promise. Quick, -they're coming." - -"Your blandishments have the usual telling effect," groaned Theodore. -"I promise,--I suppose I've got to. But you're responsible for all -the evil that may come from my yielding to temptation." He collapsed -among the pillows, and had just succeeded in covering his tall form -with a slumber robe when the rest of the family entered. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -WAYS AND MEANS - - "And a chorus arose from the judicial bench, - Our learned decision is this,--to retrench." - - -THE minister's study was furnished with an eye to comfort rather -than beauty. And yet there was something better than mere artistic -loveliness in the long room, lined with book shelves, and with every -evidence of use in the well worn couch, the comfortable easy chairs, -and the desk piled with papers. Mrs. Lee's mending basket stood -on the table, Beatrice's burnt-wood outfit was on the low shelf, -Theodore's ping-pong table occupied one corner, and the windows were -full of Miss Billy's plants. The room was the heart of the house. -Here the poor and the sick of the minister's people came for help in -their trouble. Here the children came for advice and encouragement -in their childish griefs and hopes. Here the forlorn were cheered, -and the sinful comforted; and here reigned the abiding spirit of the -home. - -Between the two south windows, in the post of honour in the room, -hung the sermon board. It was a small slate blackboard, which -had been glorified quite beyond its usual educational purposes. -Bittersweet branches garlanded its sides, and hung their scarlet -berries over its edges, and Miss Billy's best ivy stood on a bracket -beneath. The board was an institution in the household. Here one -was sure to find a bit of helpful verse, a timely quotation or an -inspiring text, for all of the minister's sermons were not delivered -from the pulpit. To-day it bore a longer message than usual,--Miss -Billy's face grew soft as she read: - -"To be honest, to be kind; to earn a little, and to spend less; to -make upon the whole a family happier by his presence; to renounce -where that shall be necessary and not to be embittered; to keep a -few friends, but these without capitulation, above all, on the same -grim conditions, to keep friends with himself--here is a task for all -that a man has of fortitude and delicacy." - -"Father is that man if one lives," she thought tenderly. "And mother -is brave, too, but they will need help,--both of them." - -"The meeting will come to order," said Mr. Lee, the lines of his face -smoothing themselves out, as they always did when he looked at his -assembled family. - -"Whom can he mean?" asked Theodore innocently, stretching out his -long legs in front of Beatrice. - -"He means you," said Beatrice sharply. "Do get up, Theodore. You are -so awkward-looking, there on the floor." - -"Why is Beatrice like this meeting?" murmured Theodore, disentangling -his legs from the afghan. "Because she has come to order. Sweet -sister, in you a magnificent slave driver was ruined! Thus I fly to -obey thy mandate." - -Miss Billy gazed at him with meaning eyebrows as he established -another cozy nest with robe and pillows on the broad couch. "I do -hope he won't act up," she thought anxiously, settling herself in a -position of attention. - -"Our business is a little unpleasant this morning," began Mr. Lee -with a poor little imitation of a smile that did not deceive at -least one member of the party. "Mother and I had decided to keep it -from you as long as possible, but later developments have made it -necessary to--to----" - -"It is right that we should know the unpleasant things as well as the -pleasant," put in Miss Billy stoutly. "We are not children. Beatrice -is eighteen, and Theodore and I shall be sixteen next June." - -"There are disasters much worse than losing money," went on Mr. -Lee. "Still I find myself perplexed and worried over financial -troubles, and I feel that I need the sound judgment of every member -of the family. Through the dishonesty of managing officers we have -lost $15,000 which was invested in the Eastern Building and Loan -Association. The loss cuts off from this source an annual income of -$900, which of course we would not feel very keenly so long as my -present salary continued. But yesterday I received a letter from the -church trustees, worded as delicately and graciously as possible, -but regretting that heavy indebtedness obliges them to reduce the -pastor's salary $500 a year, for at least two years. This leaves us -$1400 a year poorer than we have been before." - -"Let me go to work," begged Theodore. "I'd like to." - -"We thought of that," said Mrs. Lee with an approving glance at her -son; "but it is not the most practical way when we consider the -future. You must finish school first, Theodore." - -Beatrice had been applying her handkerchief to her eyes in a ladylike -manner. "Can't you do something to those horrid men?" she inquired -pathetically. "Sue them, or have them arrested, or something?" - -"Perhaps the law may reach them," said Mr. Lee, "but I have my -doubts about the results. I fear there is little to recover. I think -our wisest policy is to forget what is gone, and to conform to the -situation as quickly as possible. Miss Billy, we haven't heard from -you." - -"Hurry up, Miss Billy. You may never be _invited_ to talk again in -the whole course of your existence," said her irrepressible brother. - -Miss Billy roused from a brown study. "We are living in a large -house--sixty dollars a month," she suggested. - -"We couldn't live in a smaller one," put in Beatrice tearfully. - -"Oh, yes we could," returned Miss Billy, with a glance at Theodore. - -"Of course we could," echoed Theodore firmly. - -"There can be a reduction made in the matter of servants," said Mrs. -Lee. "We are paying Maggie fifteen dollars and Charlotte twelve. I -have talked with Maggie already. She will stay with us for twelve, -and we can let Charlotte go." - -Beatrice looked more woe-begone than before, but Miss Billy's face -showed no disappointment. "I think that is the very best thing to -do under the circumstances," she said decidedly. "The servant girl -problem is solved." - -"On the contrary, it has just begun," said Beatrice with a rueful -glance at her pretty hands. - -"Miss Peabody will have to lose the brightest star in her galaxy. She -draws too heavily upon our modest income. I shall join Ted at the -High School," went on Miss Billy bravely. - -"Are you sure that is wise?" asked Mrs. Lee. "Private school has been -one of my pet extravagances. I should like to keep you with your old -schoolmates as long as possible, for it will make a great change in -your life to leave them." - -"But think of the saving in expense," urged Miss Billy. - -Beatrice gave a little shudder. "I hate to think of your going to -that dirty, noisy place--filled with Germans and germs----" - -"And Polish and poles, and Russians and rushes----" put in Theodore. - -"The course is certainly good, and the instructors excellent," said -the minister. "If Miss Billy could be reconciled to the public -schools for a year, I think we could manage college for her later." -There was a wistfulness in his tones that touched Miss Billy's tender -heart. - -"Of course I could," she said stoutly. "I'd rather go, daddy dear." - -"As to the matter of houses," went on Mr. Lee, "I am afraid that -we shall have to leave our present home. Your mother and I spent -yesterday in looking at vacant houses. Just now there seem to be few -unoccupied, but we finally found one that we thought might do." - -"Where is it?" inquired Beatrice. - -"In the lower part of the town," answered Mr. Lee. "It is not in -an aristocratic neighbourhood, but it seems as though it might be -quite comfortable, after a few repairs are made, and the rent is -ridiculously low. The house in Number 12 Cherry Street." - -"Cherry Street!" cried Beatrice, involuntarily clapping her palms -over her eyes. "Oh, papa, how _can_ you. We _can't_ live in Cherry -Street." - -"Oh, yes we can," said Miss Billy promptly. - -"Yes we can," chimed in Theodore. - -"What kind of a house is it?" asked Miss Billy, in a practical and -business-like tone. - -Mr. Lee looked puzzled. "Well, I know it's small," he said, "and I -have an indistinct remembrance of brown paint. Ask your mother; I -fear I haven't much memory for details. Perhaps if I had I should -have watched my investment a little closer," he added sadly. - -"The house is small, and is brown too--in spots," said Mrs. Lee. "It -has four rooms downstairs and four bedrooms above. There is no water -or gas in the house, which is of course a great inconvenience; and -the place is in shabby condition; but the landlord has promised to -make the necessary repairs and to paint the house for us." - -"He probably realises what it will mean to Cherry Street in a social -way, to have us for tenants," said Beatrice. - -"You bet he does," said Theodore. "In his mind's eye he can probably -see Cherry Street ablaze with light and aglow with colour. He can -see number twelve filled with diamond tiaras and cut glass pianos -and freezers full of ice cream, to signify that a function is on. He -can see the Caseys and the Raffertys and the Rosenbaums riding by in -their coupés and splendour to attend the house warming given by the -minister. Thus will 'sassiety' be brought into Cherry Street by the -new tenants." - -"Is there a yard?" asked Miss Billy diplomatically, for Beatrice was -flushing angrily under her brother's ridicule. "Yes, there is a large -yard," said Mrs. Lee. "The sod is almost worn off, but a little grass -seed and care will work wonders there." - -"Good!" exclaimed Miss Billy. "Then perhaps, sometime in the dim and -misty future I may have a garden of my own. I would be willing to -move for that alone." - -"And I can raise vegetables and keep chickens," said Theodore. - -"And rise at daybreak to plough and harrow, and to feed and water -your stock," slyly added Miss Billy. - -"Yes, my dear," retorted Theodore with true brotherly inflection, -"and without the aid of an alarm clock either. When I hear a -combination of an avalanche and an ice wagon going downstairs I shall -say to myself: 'Time to get up. There goes Miss Billy.'" - -"How about the furniture?" inquired Miss Billy, ignoring her -brother's thrust. "It seems to me that what now abundantly fills -fourteen rooms will overflow in eight. I have a hazy recollection -of a philosophical principle about two objects not being able to -occupy the same place at the same time. How shall we manage to get -our great-grandmother's colossal bed into an eight by ten bedroom? -Can you put allopathic furniture into a homoeopathic house, mother -mine?" - -"That is another thing to be considered," said Mrs. Lee. "Of course -we shall not be able to take all of our furniture. I think we must -plan to move only what is most necessary----" - -"The bath tub and the Bible," interrupted Theodore. - -"Yes," said his mother, smiling in spite of herself at the boy's -merry way of treating a serious subject. "And the books for your -father, and the piano for Beatrice----" - -"And the couch for Theodore," suggested Miss Billy. - -"And the watering pot for Miss Billy," retorted Theodore. - -"And the sewing machine for me," went on Mrs. Lee, "and the range for -Maggie, and the pictures and other comforts for us all. We must make -Number 12 Cherry Street into a home as soon as possible. We shall -store the rest, not sell it, for I feel sure that we shall need it -all some day." - -Miss Billy slid down on to the floor between her mother and father, -and patted a hand of each. "Don't look so solemncholy," she said -fondly; "moving isn't the worst thing in the world. We have been so -comfortable all our lives that we don't know what it is to deprive -ourselves of anything. And perhaps it will be a good lesson for us -all--at least for Beatrice and Ted and me. Beside, I must confess -that I already begin to feel a yearning to take possession of my new -home. I believe that I shall like Number 12 Cherry Street." - -Mrs. Lee smiled dubiously. "It is not a very pleasant house," she -said. "And we shall not live as comfortably as we have been living -since you can remember. You must not raise your hopes so high that -a fall will hurt them. There are many things about the new life that -will be hard and uncomfortable and distasteful, and we shall long -for our pretty home and our old neighbours many, many times. But we -are all together, and we have health and hope, which surely ought to -bring happiness. And home is always home, no matter where the house -is." - -"But what will become of our friends?" said Beatrice, in a -suspiciously teary tone. "None of them will come to visit us on -Cherry Street." - -"Let them stay away then," advised Miss Billy. - -"By all means let them stay away," echoed Theodore airily. - -"But they won't stay away," said Mrs. Lee, putting her arm tenderly -about her elder daughter. "The ones we love best will find us, dear, -even at Number 12 Cherry Street." - -Miss Billy turned to the sermon board. - -"... To renounce where that shall be necessary and not to be -embittered...." Her eyes went from her mother's sweet smile to her -father's serene face. - -"They don't _need_ any help," she decided. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -NEW NEIGHBOURS - - "Now she's cast off her bonny shoon - Made o' gilded leather, - And she's put on her Hieland brogues - To skip amang the heather: - And she's cast off her bonny goon - Made o' the silk and satin, - And she's put on a tartan plaid - To row amang the bracken." - - -MARIE JEAN HENNESY was making her morning toilet. The sun was five -hours high, but for this Marie Jean cared nothing at all. She -finished tying a row of white rags in her hair that gave her a -peculiarly spiked and bristling appearance, and then buttoned her -velveteen waist here and there, leaving a button over at the top and -bringing a mateless buttonhole out at the bottom. - -Marie Jean's room was in a state of disorder that suggested its -owner had participated in late festivities the night before. A pair -of soiled white slippers were flung under the bed, together with a -pair of down-trodden shoes which Marie Jean, on her knees, was even -now seeking. A white gown that had lost much of its pristine purity -was thrown over a chair, while belts, ribbons, soap, corset-strings, -fans, handkerchiefs, powder-puffs and stockings occupied conspicuous -positions on the furniture or on the floor. Every drawer had its -mouth shut tight on a large mouthful of its possessions,--and the -dresser top was so filled with combs, brushes, perfumery, thread, -safety pins, matches, hair-pins and bottles, that the only wonder was -it could hold it all. - -But the rapt expression of Marie Jean Hennesy's face betokened -that her thoughts were far away from the mean subject of household -disorder. She was studying the programme of the ball of the night -before, at which she had danced every number. To be sure, her -slippers had hurt her, and she had endured an uncomfortable pinch -in the waist, but murmurs of admiration on every side had told her -she "looked lovely." She hummed a bit of a waltz tune and glanced -coquettishly in the mirror as the remembrance of her conquests flowed -warmly back to her: then discovering that by the morning light she -was looking sallow, she rescued the jar of Maiden's Blush from under -the bureau and deftly applied it to her cheeks. - -That Marie Jean's breakfast waited, no one with a nose could deny. -The smoky fat of much fried bacon festooned the air in graceful -clouds, alluring the tardy maid kitchenward. It swung riotously in -the folds of the parlour curtains and luxuriated on the best plush -parlour chairs, while the essence of boiled coffee stalked boldly -upstairs, calling loudly, "Come down, Marie Jean,--we've waited for -hours." - -In the kitchen there were evidences that Mrs. Hennesy had been -scrubbing. A pail of scrubbing water stood on the floor, and the -brush and soap lay beside. A sharp boundary line, also, divided -the clean from the unclean. But the floor was quite dry, and Mrs. -Hennesy's apron was nearly dry, and she was so absorbed in looking -out of the window at the people that were moving in next door that -she did not hear Marie Jean enter the kitchen. When she became aware -of her presence she gave an apologetic little cough, and bustled -about the stove serving the delayed breakfast. - -"If I'd knowed ye was up, Mary Jane," she said deprecatingly, "I'd've -fixed somethin' else fer yer breakfast. I've been kapin' this since -sivin o'clock an' it's near noon now. What kind of a time was there -at the dance last night? I tried to kape awake till ye come in, but I -was that tired wit' the ironin' I dropped off in spite of mesilf. Did -ye enjoy yerself?" - -"Oh, fairly well," drawled Marie Jean, toying languidly with her -cup and spoon: there was a wrinkle between the eyes, and a haughty -uplifting of the chin that warned Mrs. Hennesy that as ever after a -ball, Marie Jean was cross, and she hastened to change the subject to -impersonal topics. - -"The new folks is movin' in next door," she volunteered: "they must -have been doin' a lot of repairs. The painters an' paper hangers -has just got their ladders an' things moved out, an' the carpets is -bein' nailed down now: they've kep' the racket up since sivin o'clock -this mornin'. Sure now, I do be missin' Mrs. Casey more an' more -ivery day,--a-comin' in an' out wit' a pail, or the coal hod, or the -potatay peelin's, an' always stoppin' to spake neighbourly like, over -the fince. It's hard to see new folks movin' in." - -"What manner of people are they?" inquired Marie Jean, leaning -languidly back in her chair. - -"Oh, they seem good enough folks," returned Mrs. Hennesy, "but -they'll niver be what Mrs. Casey was,--that frindly an' obligin' she -was that she'd lind the head off her shoulders. The man looks like -wan of thim Protestant praists,--an' the woman's young lookin', all -but her white hair. There's two girls about yer age, Mary Jane, an' -a boy, besides a hired girl. They've got good furniture,--nothin' so -good as our plush parlour set, though,--an' I don't much care for the -colour of their carpets. Still, I guess they'll be good neighbours -enough." - -Marie Jean pushed back her breakfast and stepped over to the window. -The scene that met her eyes was an animated one. Workmen were lifting -furniture and household goods out of a heavy moving van and hurrying -them into the house. A tall gentlemen in a silk hat was beating a -rug in the back yard. A stout-armed maid was suspended out of an -upper story window with pail, brushes and fluttering rags, engaged -in cleaning the glass. A tall broad-shouldered youth in a baggy pair -of overalls was digging out the rotten fenceposts: and last of all, -a girl in a gingham dress, a girl with flushed face and wavy hair -tucked up under an old hat, was energetically raking the yard and -gathering the dirt into little piles. - -"Mercy!" exclaimed Marie Jean Hennesy. Then she added haughtily, "I -shall not call upon them." - - - - -CHAPTER V - -A LOAD OF DIRT - - "Nor knowest thou what argument - Thy life to thy neighbour's creed hath lent." - - -IT was Saturday morning and a great hammering was going on in the -Hennesy yard. Whenever the hammering ceased for a moment, a boyish -whistle took its place. It was a cheerful whistle and an infectious -one. The minister in his study was working up his sermon for Sunday -morning. It was called "The Simple Life," but it was growing all too -complex and knotty, and the minister leaned back in his chair with -relaxed muscles and contemplated his work with a troubled air. The -whistle burst into song and floated in through the window with the -sunshine: - - "Ev'ry Sunday, down to her home we go,-- - All the girls and all the boys they love her so: - Always jolly,--heart that is true, I know,-- - She's the sunshine of Paradise Al-ley." - -The minister sat straight again and dipped his pen in the ink. -Life was so simple after all. "Love ye one another and keep my -commandments." The sermon smoothed itself out and flowed evenly along -to the tune of "Paradise Alley." - -Miss Billy was on the side of the house stirring the virgin soil with -an axe preparatory to putting in her pansies. Theodore came jauntily -out of the door, his hat and shoes well brushed and shaking out a -clean handkerchief. - -"Well!" exclaimed Miss Billy reproachfully, "I thought you were going -to help me to-day." - -"Would that I could!" said Theodore, waving the handkerchief -gracefully at her. "But Mistress Billy, gaze upon my shoes." - -"I see they are your patent leathers. I should think you would wear -your others Saturday." - -"That's the beginning of the story," said Theodore, lowering his -voice confidentially. "These are my all,--and hush, Billy,--these -are busted. I've got exactly nineteen cents in the world, but I've -recorded a vow to buy my own clothes and schoolbooks, hereafter. I'll -not ask father for another cent of money. Therefore I go hence to -seek a job." - -"Well, go on then, and good luck to you," said Miss Billy, taking up -the axe again. "But this soil--" and she made a savage chop at the -ground with each word, "--is--just--all--stones--and--clay." - -As Theodore departed, the hammering in the Hennesy yard waned and the -melody lifted again. - - "When Maguire's little lad had the fever so bad - That no one would dare to go near him, - This maiden so brave said, 'Perhaps I can save, - At least I can comfort and cheer him.'" - -Miss Billy's face brightened, and throwing down the axe she went -to the fence and stood looking over at the panorama which unfolded -itself. - -The Hennesy house, in years past, had evidently done duty as a store. -It was a dilapidated old brick building, set crookedly on its lot, -with two disproportionately large front windows in the lower half, -and a big deep-set front door. Above the second story the house -terminated abruptly in a flat tin roof without ornamentation of any -kind. In the rear of the lot there were a barn, a wagon shed, and a -chicken house, all shedding various coats and colours of whitewash, -and all in the last stages of disrepair. Scattered promiscuously -about the yard were broken wagon wheels, wood-racks, chickens, pine -wood, and old tin cans,--while a lame horse, a boy, a leaning pump, -a dilapidated clothes-reel and two wobbly puppies further graced -the scene. Grass, flower or shrub there was none,--but there was -mud,--plenty of it; mud wet and mud dried. And the deep ruts in the -ground, together with the broken wheels lying around, and the strong -barny smell pervading the place, gave testimony that Mr. Hennesy -followed "teaming" for a living. - -The hammering was beginning again when Miss Billy spoke: - -"What are you making?" she asked pleasantly. - -John Thomas Hennesy looked up. As to turned up nose and freckles, he -much resembled Marie Jean, but his mouth was firmer. He gave Miss -Billy a long penetrating stare, and the colour did not begin to creep -into his cheeks until after he had dropped his head. - -"I'm fixin' a new kennel fer my dog," he said shamefacedly. - -"Goodness!" thought Miss Billy, "he's older than I thought. He must -be at least fifteen." Then she went on aloud, "I wonder if it is a -white bulldog with a black spot on its back?" - -"Yes,--that's her," answered the boy, looking up with quick interest. - -"Then she's been calling on me a week steadily, for bones," declared -Miss Billy gaily. "I'm so glad to know her." - -John Thomas took up his hammer again and began to search irresolutely -through his nail box at his side, but Miss Billy stood her ground -with her arms behind her and her chin resting on the top of the fence. - -"He's wishing I would go," she thought, "but I am not going. I shall -stand right here until I get courage enough to ask him to come over -and help me with the pansy bed. But it's awkward,--awfully awkward. I -can't think of a thing to say." - -"I liked your dog the moment I saw her," she went on: "I owned one -like her three years ago." - -John Thomas, having found his nail, hesitated no longer, but began to -drive it into the frame with ringing strokes. Miss Billy waited until -the hammering subsided. - -"A friend of father's gave her to me when she was a little bow-legged -puppy. She was a beautiful dog, white, with nice burnt sienna spots, -and a lovely disposition. I named her Serena on account of that -disposition. But she had the funniest looking tail, with three queer -kind of corkscrews in it." (Miss Billy illustrated with a whirl of -her forefinger that was entirely lost upon John Thomas.) - -"But I didn't care,--I loved Serena, if her tail did go in a -corkscrew. But one summer my cousin, who was studying medicine, came -to visit us, and Serena's tail seemed to bother him an awful lot. -He kept making remarks about it all the time, and said it had been -broken and ought to come off. So at last I consented." - -John Thomas had picked out another nail, but now for the first time -began to display interest in the story, and looked up from his work -as Miss Billy went on: - -"We gave her chloroform: I held the sponge myself while my cousin -performed the operation. It didn't hurt her at all, and she really -seemed handsomer without the tail, but a sorry sequel followed. I -went to Philadelphia soon after, and while I was there my uncle took -me to a dog show. I never before saw so many beautiful dogs and among -them was one almost exactly like my Serena, and with three twists in -her tail." - -"'You have a dog just like mine,' I said to the man who owned her. - -"'Has your dog a tail like this?' he asked. - -"I told him 'yes,' and was just going on to explain to him how I had -had it operated upon when he interrupted me. 'Then it was a good -breed,' he said. 'That tail is the mark of a fine dog. Each curl in -the tail adds fifteen dollars to the value of the animal.'" - -Miss Billy's eyes looked solemnly down into John Thomas's widely -distended orbs: "Think of it!" she said: "Forty-five dollars cut off -at one fell swoop! I can assure you my cousin has never heard the -last of it." - -"Where's the dog now?" - -"Dead. Run over by a street car. I cried for months. I don't expect -to ever own another like Serena." - -John Thomas drew a long breath, and turning to his box began a search -for a leather hinge. - -Miss Billy felt herself distinctly dismissed, but she still held on -to the fence. - -"I want to ask you,--" she began again,--"what I can do about a -flower bed that's just all stones. I'm trying to dig it, you know." - -"Take the stones out," said John Thomas laconically. - -"But there wouldn't be anything left! It's _all_ stones!" - -"Maybe it's just a fillin', an' there's good dirt underneath," -suggested the boy. - -"Won't you please step over and look at it?" entreated Miss Billy: so -John Thomas, with open reluctance, laid down his hammer and nails, -and climbed as awkwardly as possible over the fence. - -"If it's fillin' it goes awful deep," he decided, after a quarter of -an hour of hard work. "Nothin' can't grow in here." - -"But I must have some flowers!" wailed Miss Billy, in despair. -"Why, that was one reason that I wanted to come and live on Cherry -Street,--because there was a big yard here, you know." - -John Thomas was regarding the rocky flower bed musingly. "I'll tell -you what I can do," he said at last. "There's more than a foot of -this out already,--an' I'll go down to where my father has got some -teams hauling dirt from a cellar they're digging, an' I'll bring you -a load, if you'd like it. It's good black dirt." - -"John Thomas Hennesy!" exclaimed Miss Billy, clasping her hands in -ecstasy: "A load,--_a whole load_,--of black dirt?" - -"Why sure," said John Thomas, reddening with pleasure. "They're just -dumping it into an old quarry." - -"A whole load of black dirt!" said Miss Billy, musingly. "I'll have -pansies, and sweet-peas, and geraniums, and I'll sow grass seed on -the bad places in the yard. John Thomas Hennesy, you're a prize!" - - * * * * * - -That evening, as the Lee family assembled around the tea-table, the -minister said cheerily, "I had a peculiar thing to be thankful for -to-day. It was the song and whistle of a light-hearted boy. It helped -me with my sermon." - -"I have to be thankful for a daughter who took the cake baking off my -hands and helped me with the mending," said Mrs. Lee, smiling over at -Beatrice. - -"I am thankful for John Thomas Hennesy and black dirt!" declared Miss -Billy fervently. - -"And I," wound up Theodore proudly, "for getting a steady Saturday -job, taking care of Brown's soda fountain, at a dollar a day!" - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -NEXT DOOR - - "Of course I'm interested in my neighbour: Why shouldn't I - be? That fence between us only whets my appetite." - - -AT the same hour the Hennesy family were having six o'clock dinner in -the kitchen. Mrs. Hennesy, Marie Jean and John Thomas were already -seated at the table, but Mr. Hennesy still stood with his head -enveloped in the roller towel at the kitchen sink. - -"An' ye say her name is Billy, John Thomas?" inquired Mrs. Hennesy, -serving the corned beef and cabbage with a liberal hand. "Sure now, -it must be a mistake. Maybe it's Milly ye're afther hearin' thim call -her. Sure an' Billy's no girl's name at all." - -"It's Billy," persisted John Thomas, between mouthfuls of cabbage. -"Her real name is Wilhelmina, but it was so long and hard they've -called her Miss Billy ever since she was a little girl. The Miss is -always in front of it though. That makes it feminoine." - -"Saints have mercy!" ejaculated Mrs. Hennesy. "Wilhelmina! It must be -Indian! Mary Jane, you ought to be thankful for your own name, that -you ought, afther hearin' this wan." - -"An' not be thryin' to copy afther thim Frinch quanes that got their -heads cut off fer their impidence," put in Mr. Hennesy, emerging from -the towel with every hair on end, and seating himself at the table -with the scant ceremony of rolling down his shirt sleeves. - -Marie Jean gave her little head a toss, which was lost upon Mr. -Hennesy as he helped himself to a piece of corned beef from the -platter. "Was she glad to get the dirt, John Thomas?" he inquired -good-naturedly. - -"Glad!" said John Thomas. "Well, she was that tickled you'd 'a' -thought it was gold. She tuk me into the house to make lemonade, an' -then upstairs to show me her brother's room. My, yo' ought to see it, -Mary Jane." - -"I s'pose it's just grand," said Marie Jean condescendingly. - -"It's all right," replied John Thomas, "an' yo' bet I wisht I had -one just like it. There ain't no carpets ner tidies ner fixins. The -floor is painted kind o' red, an' the walls are red with all kinds -of posters stuck 'round. An' there's a border at the top made out of -sheet music with pictures on. My, it's great. Right in the middle of -the room there's a punchin' bag strung,--an' he's got dumb bells, -an' boxin' gloves, an' there's a case of all kinds of money, some -big name she called it, but it means, anyway, collectin' coins. He -uses two hair brushes at a time, without any handles to 'em, an' -there's a brush fer his teeth, an' a brush fer his hands, an' one fer -his nails, an' a thing to polish his nails, an' two brushes fer his -shoes, an' one fer his hat, an' another fer his clo'es." - -Mr. Hennesy's jaw had dropped lower and lower during this recital. -Now he closed his mouth with an effort and looked fixedly at his son. - -"John Thomas," he said warningly, "you kape away from that loonytick. -Moind me, they're thryin' to take up his moind wid brushes an' -punchin' bags, but this kind is cunnin' as foxes, an' there'll be -mischief in the end. Moind now, what I say." - -"Why, pa," expostulated Marie Jean, with a giggle, "he ain't out of -his mind." - -"He is," insisted Mr. Hennesy stoutly. "Av coorse he is. Wid a brush -fer his hands, an' a brush fer his nails, an' another fer his teeth, -an' two widout handles fer his hair, an' wan fer his clo'es an' two -fer his shoes an' another fer his hat! Av coorse he is, an' there -takin' up his moind wid brushes. Moind what I say." - -"Don't expose yer iggerence, Mr. Hennesy," put in his wife -good-naturedly. "People uses all thim brushes nowadays." - -"Well thin, if he ain't crazy, what kind of work does he be doin' to -nade all thim brushes to kape clean,--can ye answer me thot, Mrs. -Hennesy?" - -John Thomas gracefully turned the conversation. "She give me this," -he said, putting his hand in his pocket and extracting something -wrapped in tissue paper. "She said she had two others an' had been -thinkin' of puttin' this one in the box fer the sufferin' savages, -an' would I take it just to remember how we worked together over the -flower bed. So then I tuk it." - -"What do it be for?" inquired Mr. Hennesy, eyeing the strange object -with suspicion. - -"It's a nail file, to grind off yer finger nails,--if they grow -long enough," answered John Thomas, regarding his own broken nails -meditatively. "It's silver, too," he added. - -Mr. Hennesy sniffed. "I'll not be borryin' it," he observed. "I'm not -nadin' a file to kape me own nails short. The rocks I do be handlin' -iv'ry day, John Thomas, seems to be all that's required." - -Marie Jean's silvery laugh tinkled on the air as John Thomas returned -the file to his pocket and passed his plate for more cabbage. - -"Miss Billy's all right, anyhow," he went on, addressing his -conversation to Marie Jean, for the laugh rankled. "She ain't ashamed -if her name is Wilhelmina, or even Miss Billy: an' she don't have no -big bushy frizzes coverin' up her ears, an' she don't wear feathers -in her hat. She told me so herself." - -Marie Jean's laugh tinkled again, and she rose from the table. She -did not offer to help her mother wash the dishes, but swept into the -hall and took her hat down from the rack, preparatory to going down -town. It was a large black hat, heavy with buckles and plumes. She -adjusted it coquettishly on her head so that one plume hung directly -over her eyes, and took down her gloves. - -The vision that gazed back at her from the hall glass was certainly -an entrancing one, but Marie Jean lingered for an experiment. She -lifted the heavy hair off her ears, tucked it up out of sight, and -holding back the waving plumes, gazed again. Then with a shrug of her -shoulders, she let hair and plumes fall, and swept out of the house. - - * * * * * - -On the other side of Number 12 Cherry Street Mrs. Canary was seated -on the doorstep with the Baby and the Other Baby in her lap. - -It had been a hard day for Mrs. Canary, for there had been an -unusual amount of deferred mending and cleaning as a grand round -up for the Sabbath. But now that the supper was over, she felt at -liberty to draw her first breath in the cool Spring air, while her -oldest daughter, Holly Belle, assisted by Ginevra, commonly known as -"Jinny," cleared away the remains of the evening meal. - -On the sidewalk in front of the house, Launcelot and Fridoline were -quarrelling over a catapult, while little Mike, sitting on the gate -post, was adding his shrill voice to the general tumult. Mrs. Canary, -who was a great lover of romance and revelled in the lurid pages of -the _Hearthside Companion_ and kindred publications was responsible -for the high-sounding names of her children from Holly Belle to -Fridoline. When little Mike had arrived on the scene, however, -Policeman Canary had put his foot down on the cherished proposition -to name the boy Lorenzo. - -"You've done yer duty by all the rest of 'em," he said, "an' you've -named 'em a-plenty. Their own father has to call 'em 'say' when he -speaks to 'em. This one'll be Mike." And Mike he was. - -Owing to this difference of opinion between the heads of the -household, the two latest arrivals were still known as the "Baby," -and the "Other Baby." But Mrs. Canary, in spite of her romantic -tendencies and slip-shod ways, was a loving wife and mother, and -had done her easy-going best to make her husband and children -comfortable. Years of poverty and toil and trouble had not destroyed -the zest of living for her, nor altered her naturally sweet -disposition. - -Mrs. Canary hushed the two babies upon her breast, and rocked slowly -back and forth, making an improvised cradle of her body. - -Night came late in Cherry Street during the month of May, but the -dusk of the evening already enveloped the tiny porch. The night wind -blew in coldly across the lake. But Mrs. Canary, oblivious to the -chill in the air and the growing darkness, continued to read aloud, -in her eager absorption, from a folded paper held above the children: - -"'Two gleam-ing eyes looked out from the thick-et upon the moonlit -path, where the beautiful Lady Gab-ri-ell-e paced to and fro with her -lover. The moonlight shone full upon her robe of shimmering satin, -thickly en-crusted with pearls, and sparkled in the diamonds that -looped her fair tresses. Lionel Mont-fort bent ten-der-ly over her. -Burning love was written in every line of his handsome face, and -all thoughts of future en-grand-dise-ment were forgotten for the -nonce. "Darling," he murmured, "I have found my affinity, and nothing -shall come between us. Let my Lady mother rave,--nothing now shall -per-suade me to marry the countess." - -"'At this juncture there ap-peared upon the Lady Gab-ri-ell-e's -beautiful face a look of hor-ror that her lover never for-got. -"Treachery!" she cried, and pointed to the thicket. Her lover's eyes -followed her out-stretched finger,--but too late. A burst of flame -leaped from the thicket, two terri-bul shrieks rang out on the night -air----'" - -So intent upon the fate of the Lady Gabrielle was she, that she did -not hear, above the noise of the dish washing and the quarrelling -children, a genuine shriek that did ring out upon the night air. -It was not until little Mike pulled her gown with an excited -exclamation, that she came back to the world of reality. - -"What's that you say?" she said. - -Mike repeated his remark: - -"Launkelot hitted a man wiv his catter pole." - -Mrs. Canary beamed with pride. "Launkelot always was a accurate -shot," she said fondly. - -At that moment the young marksman appeared at the gate. He was -shrieking at the top of his healthy young lungs, and was being -hurried along the ground by means of a strong arm which had united -itself with his ear. At the other end of the arm was a tall, fierce -old man, carrying a muddy top-hat in one hand, and hurrying his -victim along with the other. The rest of the hastily summoned Canary -flock brought up the rear of the procession. - -Mrs. Canary laid the two babies behind the door where they could not -be stepped upon in the melee, and faced the enemy boldly. - -"What's the matter here?" she inquired fiercely. "Let go that boy. -What's he done, I want to know?" - -"I will haf' the law on him already!" said the old man. His face was -fairly purple with rage and his voice shook so that the words were -hardly intelligible. - -"Leave go of him!" commanded Mrs. Canary, with spirit. Then her voice -changed as she recognised the man before her. "Oh," she said, in a -milder tone, "it's you, is it? Launkelot didn't go to hurt ye, I'm -sure. Leave go the boy, an' let him tell about it." - -The old man seemed not to hear her mollifying words. - -"He hung on to my buggy," he said, in angry tones, "unt when I tell -him to 'get off,' he answer me back. I lick him behind mit my whip, -unt he shoot me in the headt mit his snap gun----" - -"That wasn't the way it happened," said a clear voice above them. - -The excited little group glanced up quickly. A young girl stood -looking over the fence,--a girl in a white gown, with soft hair that -shone like copper in the lamplight. - -"Excuse me for interrupting," she said, "but I couldn't help hearing -your conversation, and I want to tell you the whole story. I saw -you drive past, and the robe was hanging out of your buggy. This -little boy,--his name is Launcelot, isn't it?--ran out to put it in. -You called to him not to hang on, and he answered that he was only -putting in your robe for you. Without stopping to listen, you struck -him with your whip. It was a mean and cruel thing to do. Then he did -shoot at you with his catapult, but you can't blame him for that! I -should have done it myself if you had struck me." - -The old man stood gazing uneasily from one to the other during this -recital. He loosened his grasp of the boy with a muttered growl. - -"Why didn't you talk louder then?" he said to the astonished -Launcelot. - -An embarrassed silence fell upon the little group. The old man seemed -dazed by the unexpected turn affairs had taken. He stared off into -space, and shifted his weight from one foot to the other without -finding further words. Then he cast a hurried glance at the girl -standing above him, and shuffled off into the growing darkness. - -Mrs. Canary caught the young sharpshooter to her breast. - -"Ma's little hero-ine," she said fondly. "That's what ye get fer -doin' good to that old sarpint. But you was cleared all right, wasn't -ye? Thank the lady, Launkelot." - -"Launkelot" dug his bare foot into the floor, and murmured a few -words that might be interpreted as an expression of gratitude. - -"He is thankful, though bashful at the present moment," explained -Mrs. Canary gratefully. "He ain't usened to havin' young ladies in -white dresses, with hair of tarnished gold, springin' out of the dark -like flamin' seruphims to defend him." - -"Oh, I happened to be sitting on this side of the shelf, and I -couldn't help hearing what was said," answered the girl merrily. - -"The shelf, is it?" asked Mrs. Canary, looking puzzled. - -The girl laughed. "The piazza,--the porch, I mean. We call it the -shelf over here, because it's only about wide enough to set a pan of -milk on. We're your new neighbours, you know." - -"Well, it's glad I am to meet you," said Mrs. Canary heartily. -"Fridoline, be sure the babies' fingers ain't in that crack when -you lean against that door. We're glad to make your acquaintance -and thankful fer your defence of us: ain't we, Launkelot? You see -I couldn't rise in defence of my own innercent blood as swift as -usual--I was that surprised at finding out who it was he had hitten. -It was bold of you to talk that way to his face,--the old villain!" - -"Why, whom do you mean?" asked Miss Billy. - -"That was Mr. Schultzsky, the landlord," said Mrs. Canary. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -TRIALS - -"Oh, how full of briars is this working day world." - - -MISS BILLY had broken her shoe-string. There was not another in the -house and the clock pointed half past eight of a school morning. - -"If you're ready," said Theodore, putting his head in the door, "I'll -walk to school with you. I have something to tell you." - -"I'm not ready, and don't expect to be," said Miss Billy crossly, -giving the lace a pull and breaking it again. "There now, it can -never be tied. I shan't go to school at all this morning, so there!" - -Beatrice was shaking the pillows at the open window. "Why Wilhelmina -Lee!" she exclaimed,--"what a temper! How do you ever expect to get -through the world if the breaking of a shoe-string upsets you?" - -"Oh, it's all very well for you to moralise," retorted Miss Billy, -trying to repair the offending lacing, "you who have nothing to do -but stay at home and play lady, or do a little dusting. Look at -me,--going to school every day, taking two music lessons a week, 'way -back in my Latin, and those geraniums are not set out yet and it's -going to rain this morning. It's enough to make any one wish to die." - -"We've no time for a funeral this morning," said Mrs. Lee, bustling -cheerily into the room. "Beatrice, I shall have to ask you to wash -the breakfast dishes. Maggie's toothache is worse, and she is getting -ready to go to the dentist. I promised her that I would make the -pudding and put the bread into the pans." - -"Dear me," scolded Beatrice; "I was just going to sweep my room. -I can't put it off. Maggie has toothache rather too frequently, I -think, and dishwater just ruins my hands!" - -"Well, of all the howling dervishes this morning!" said Theodore in -the hall. "Miss Billy, come along if you're ready, and there'll be -one less." - -The minister stood in the doorway. He held Miss Billy long enough to -rub a finger gently over the pucker between her eyes. - -"It's a brand new day, daughter," he said lovingly. "It's not fair to -handicap it at the start with a frown." - -"I have troubles of my own," said Theodore gloomily, as they jogged -off to school together. "I've worked three Saturdays at Brown's, -beside Decoration day, and though I haven't drawn a cent of the -money, there is only forty cents coming to me." - -Miss Billy stopped short, and her books fell to the ground. - -"I'd like to know what kind of arithmetic you call that!" she said, -staring. - -"It's an example in profit and loss, and mainly loss," said Theodore -grimly. "Don't breathe it, Sis,--but treats have done it." - -"Treats!" echoed Miss Billy. "You don't mean to say you have spent -three dollars and sixty cents in treats, in that length of time!" - -"It's awful when you come to look it squarely in the face," -acknowledged Theodore. "But the girls come in,--and they expect -it,--and what is a fellow to do?" - -"It's horrid of them, anyhow! And I'll cut their acquaintance,--every -one of them,--when I find out who they are!" - -"You'll do nothing of the kind," said Theodore haughtily. "I'll fight -my own battles, if you please." - -"Three dollars and sixty cents! If I had it in plants!" upbraided -Miss Billy. - -"Three dollars and sixty cents! If I had it in shoes!" mourned -Theodore. - -The wrinkles disappeared from between Miss Billy's eyes and she -laughed outright. "It's funny, anyhow," she declared. "And you're in -an awful position. I don't see how you are going to wriggle out of -it now. The girls have such confidence in you by this time,--and -Brown's sodas are the best in town, if they do come high." - -Theodore whistled through his closed teeth. "Laugh away, Miss Billy. -Add every grain of discomfort you can. But I'll wriggle out of it -sooner than you think. The one thing that worries me is the fear -that I'll have to put my hand down into father's pocket for my new -shoes--for that's what it amounts to. Of course I can pay him back in -a few weeks, but I hate to ask him for it just now." - -"I'll lend you my Christmas gold piece,--I'd love to, Ted." - -"Well, I should say not. I haven't come to the place yet where I -borrow from girls. And these shoes will be sandals before I borrow -from father, either. But you're a good fellow, Miss Billy." - -Miss Billy's face beamed, and she gave her brother's arm an -affectionate squeeze as they parted at the school door. "Every dark -cloud has a silver lining," she whispered comfortingly. - -"I wish my pocket had," responded Theodore gloomily. "Good-bye. Look -out you don't flunk in your Latin to-day." - - * * * * * - -The rain that had threatened all day held off, and Miss Billy hurried -home at four o'clock to plant her geraniums. Beatrice, looking very -cool and pretty in a blue dimity gown, stopped her in the hall and -drew her into the dining room. - -"I'm glad you've come," she whispered. "The Blanchard girls are in -the parlour making a farewell call before leaving for Europe. I want -you to go in and entertain them while I get the Apollinaris water -out of the refrigerator for a pine-apple frappé. Be nice and polite, -dear, and shake hands with them. And do be careful what you say. -Don't tell them how many rooms there are in the house, or how much -rent we pay, or hint at economy in any way. Run along now,--there's a -good sister." - -"I can't," objected Miss Billy. "I don't like those Blanchard girls, -and I have to set my plants out." - -"Oh, please," begged Beatrice. "You must. They'll see everything -if they are left so long alone. Tuck your hair-pins in and hurry -along,--there's a dear." - -Very reluctantly Miss Billy made her way to the parlour. There was a -rustle of silk skirts as the Blanchard girls rose to greet her. "How -do you do?" said Miss Billy, in her best manner, making her voice and -outstretched hand as cordial as possible. - -"So glad to find you in," drawled Miss Maude, with a shade of -condescension in her manner. "We rode miles trying to find the -place,--we had forgotten your address, you know,--and when -we did find it,--what do you suppose?--it is the strangest -coincidence,--why, Casey, our coachman, don't you know, moved out of -this very house in April." - -"Well now, maybe that wasn't malice," thought Miss Billy hotly. "But -I promised Beatrice, so I'll go right on making myself amiable." -"Yes?" she said aloud coolly. "Mrs. Canary has told me a great deal -about the Caseys, but of course I never thought of connecting them -with your John Casey. Indeed we've been so busy getting settled--that -sounds like coffee grounds, doesn't it?--and we've had so many of our -friends dropping in on us daily, that we haven't had time to think at -all." - -"Have you heard," lisped Miss Blanche, "that the Van Courtlands are -intending to join their daughter in Cologne, next month? We did so -wish we might sail with them, but Mr. Van Courtland thought we had -better not defer our plans, as his time was so uncertain. Have they -called lately?" - -"Well, I can't truthfully say they called, for Mrs. Van Courtland -brought a gingham apron with her when she came and helped mother -arrange the silver and china, and Mr. Van Courtland spaded half my -flower-beds for me. He used to be a farmer, you know, before he was a -banker." - -The young ladies of fashion exchanged glances of surprise. When Miss -Maude spoke again there was trace of warmth in her manner. - -"You are quite cosily situated here; are you at all lonesome for the -old home in Ashurst Place?" - -"Well," said Miss Billy frankly, "I miss the bath-tub most awfully," -and the next moment could have bitten out her tongue. "That's the -first glaring indiscretion," she thought despairingly, "and there'll -be more if Beatrice doesn't hurry with that frappé." - -Miss Blanche smiled encouragingly. "Do you know," she confided, -"father thinks it was a great mistake, your moving here. He says he -thinks your father's position as rector of St. John's demanded an -entirely different course. Father says there are at least a dozen men -in the church that would have tided your affairs over. But ministers -are seldom good business men, and I suppose your father is no -exception to the rule. How does your dear mother bear up under it?" - -"Under what?" asked Miss Billy. "You mean moving to Cherry Street? -Oh, mother is brave. She's like the young lady of Norway: - - "Who casually sat in a doorway: - When the door squeezed her flat - She exclaimed 'What of that?' - This courageous young lady of Norway. - -"Beside, Miss Blanche, you are labouring under a delusion. I assure -you we enjoy our new home in Cherry Street." - -"Oh, it's very pleasant," conceded Miss Blanche hastily. "By the way, -what has become of that lovely little _étagère_ of yours? I missed it -the moment I stepped into the room." - -Miss Billy threw patience and prudence to the winds. "It's stored in -a storing-room," she declared. "The last time I saw it, there was a -bird-cage and a foot-stool on top of it. We had to pack a good deal -of our furniture. We haven't fourteen rooms now, you understand." - -"Good-afternoon, ladies," said a voice in the doorway. It was -Theodore, looking very mischievous. "I'm sorry I can't shake hands -with you,--but I've been giving a hand in the erection of the -conservatory on the south side--a fad of Miss Billy's." - -Miss Billy gasped. A conservatory! He must mean the glass sash he had -been fitting over the pansy bed! - -"We've been at no end of trouble and expense since we moved here," -went on Theodore. "You see it is the first 'place' we have really -had. There's one hundred and fifty feet of ground here. Beatrice -has planned for a sort of Southern California verandah from which -she can serve afternoon teas, and mother wants the lawn wired with -electricity for social purposes." - -"How delightful," murmured the guests, looking a bit uncertain, while -Miss Billy sat rigidly upright, trying in vain to catch Theodore's -eye. Certainly, her mother had said that at the breakfast table, but -it had been a joke, nothing more. - -"I have a leaning toward an up-to-date stable and riding ponies, -myself," went on Theodore airily, and looking at Miss Billy now as -if to say: "No word of untruth in that!" "Still, there's the college -grind to consider,--I shall be qualified next year, you know,--and a -fellow gets precious little time for recreation." - -"Are you--ah--still at Brown's drug store?" interpolated Miss Maude, -looking mystified. "Sister Myrtle has spoken of seeing you there. The -child thinks so much of you." - -"And of ice-cream sodas," thought Theodore grimly. "Yes," he said -aloud, "Mr. Brown wanted me to help him out on Saturdays for a little -while. He's in the church, you know. But I shall give it up when -vacation comes." - -Beatrice was entering with a dainty tray. "You'll pardon the delay, -won't you?" she said sweetly, as she offered the sparkling glasses. -"You'll have some, Miss Billy?" - -"No, I thank you," said Miss Billy, with heightened colour and a -hasty manner. "If you will excuse me I'll see to my geraniums. -Good-afternoon." - -"And I," said Theodore, "shall betake myself to the bathroom to -remove the unseemly signs of toil. I'll take my frappé with me, -Bea,--may I? Good-bye, girls. Write me from gay Paree when you reach -there," and Theodore followed Miss Billy into the dining room. - -"Well?" he asked interrogatively, as he seated himself on a corner of -the table to sip his frappé. - -"It's far from well, Theodore Lee," snapped Miss Billy reproachfully, -undecided as to whether to laugh or cry. "You told awful, unmitigated -falsehoods! You know you did!" - -[Illustration: "I have a leaning toward an up-to-date stable and -riding ponies, myself."] - -"My dear sister, I only enlarged upon truthful topics in a brilliant -and society-like way. Beside, I had to hand them back the small -change. I never in my life heard such stilted, patronising talk as -they were giving you. And when they jumped on father,--well, that -decided it. Good land, Sis,--what's the matter with this frappé!" - -"Don't drink it if you don't like it," said Miss Billy, refusing to -be friendly. - -"Like it! Why it's awful! It tastes like spruce gum and carbolic acid -and chloroform all mixed up. Smell it, Miss Billy." - -"When you were little, mother used to wash your mouth with soap when -you told falsehoods. It is probably some hazy recollection of that -which is perverting your taste." - -Theodore was taking another cautious sip. "It's a little like -sauerkraut, but it has the effervescence of soda water. It's the most -curious stuff I ever tasted." - -Miss Billy unbent sufficiently to put her nose to the glass. - -"Why, it smells like yeast," she said wonderingly. - -"_That's_ what it is," said Theodore, snapping his fingers -triumphantly. "I knew it wasn't chloroform or carbolic, but I -couldn't just name it. It's yeast!" - -"But what can yeast be doing in the frappé?" questioned Miss Billy -unbelievingly. Then as a sudden light broke upon her, she exclaimed, -"Oh, Ted,--Beatrice must have gotten the yeast bottle instead of the -Apollinaris water!--and for the Blanchard girls of all others! They -are in there trying to drink it now. What shall we do?" - -"Nothing," said Theodore decidedly,--"they've drank it by this -time. You watch how they will 'rise' to go. 'Sweets to the -sweet,'--likewise yeast to the yeasty. Dear girls,--how airily their -feet will spurn the pave. And it will do Miss Blanche good! She's as -flat as an oatmeal cracker." - -"Theodore, you ought to be ashamed of yourself!" Miss Billy was -almost crying now. "Think of father when he hears all this,--and -Beatrice's feelings,--and the awful remarks they will make about -us----" - -"If you are looking for your handkerchief, you're sitting on it," -said Theodore soberly. "Don't cry, Billy. I am going to father now -and make a clean breast of the whole affair. There's no use staying -to console Beatrice about the yeast. She'll have fifty sporadic -spasms!"--and he strode from the room. - -"Oh, dear,--this has been a day of nothing but troubles," sighed Miss -Billy, wiping her eyes,--"and I lost my temper the very first thing -over a shoe-lace, and everything has gone crooked ever since. Poor -Beatrice,--she tries to be so nice and ladylike,--and I know she will -never get over this,--_never_!" - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -THE STORY OF HORATIUS - - "They held a council, standing - Before the river gate. - Short time was there, ye well may guess - For musing or debate. - Out spake the council roundly - 'The bridge must straight go down, - For since Janiculum is lost, - Naught else can save the town.'" - - -THE sun had risen early to get a good start, and at nine o'clock was -shining down with relentless fury on Cherry Street. Theodore was -wont to declare that the rain was wetter and the dew damper and the -sun hotter on this street than in any other portion of the inhabited -globe; and it was certainly true that the rows of small houses, -unprotected by trees or awnings, did look unusually torrid in the -broad glare of light. - -In the Lee house the shutters were closed and the green shades drawn -down, but the heat seemed to radiate from the painted door, on the -south porch, where a small red-headed boy was trying to ring the door -bell. It was a long reach for the little arms, and after raising -himself so high upon his tiptoes that he nearly lost his balance, he -gave up the attempt, and thumped lustily upon the panel. There was -no response. He waited a moment, his small bare feet squirming about -uneasily upon the hot floor, and then rapped a second time and a -third. At the last knock another small red-roofed boy appeared over -the top of the board fence that separated the Canary yard from the -Lee home. - -"Try it again," advised the owner of Red Head Number Two. - -"I have tried it lots of agains." - -"But ye ain't makin' no noise. Mis' Lee might be deef. Kick 'er a -little." - -"Ain't got no shoes on," protested the little messenger. - -He had just raised his hand for a final rap when the door was opened, -and Mrs. Lee appeared upon the threshold. - -"Good-morning, Fridoline," she said pleasantly. - -Fridoline delivered himself of his message speedily: "Ma's got an -indisposhun and says please will you come over to wunst." - -"What is the matter with your mother?" inquired Mrs. Lee, puzzled by -the queer statement. - -"She's got rigours," responded Red Head Number One. - -"And her stummick's upset," added Red Head Number Two, across the -fence. - -Mrs. Lee was already untying her apron. "Tell her I'll be over there -right away," she said, as she left the door to explain her absence to -Beatrice. - -Miss Billy, coming in from an errand some time afterward, stopped -short at the sight of Holly Belle, who, with tear-stained cheeks and -red eyes, was emptying ashes into the street. - -"Why what's the matter, Holly Belle?" she asked. - -"Ma's sick," said Holly Belle, rubbing her sleeve across her eyes. - -"Very sick?" - -"I dunno. I guess she's pretty bad. She had highstericks this morning -at dawn, but she wouldn't let me call your mother until she was sure -by the smell of the coffee that you'd had your breakfast. I don't -know what's the matter with her. I gave her all the kinds of medicine -we had in the house, and there ain't none of 'em that seemed to do -her a mite of good. Your ma's here now, and she seems to be a little -better. But you know I heard the death tick in the wall, and I'm -scaret to death." And the tears rose again. - -"What's a death tick?" inquired Miss Billy, putting her arm -reassuringly about the sorrowing little girl. - -"It's a bug in the wall that always ticks when people are goin' -to--to die," sobbed Holly Belle. - -"Pshaw!" exclaimed Miss Billy. "You don't believe that nonsense, do -you? I can't think your mother is as sick as that, anyway. Is the -doctor there?" - -Holly Belle shook her head. - -"Well then!" said Miss Billy triumphantly. "Mother would have had him -there long ago if your mother was dangerously ill. She'll probably -be all right in a day or two. Now cheer up, Holly Belle, and tell me -what there is that I can do for you." - -A loud shriek from the back of the house answered the question. - -"It's the children," said Holly Belle. "They've been going on that -way for an hour steady. I could make 'em behave, if it wasn't for -Launkelot. But he's got up a new game, an' of course they're all -bound to see it through." - -"May I borrow them for a while?" asked Miss Billy. - -Holly Belle gave a visible sigh of relief. "I sh'd say you can," she -responded heartily. - -There was no difficulty in finding the children, for a great hubbub -in the back yard indicated that the small Canarys were having a -decidedly hilarious and enlivening time during their mother's -enforced retirement. Miss Billy went around the walk to the back of -the Lee house, and surveyed her charges over the fence. - -The back yard in the Canary premises had been partitioned off into -little squares by means of a boot-heel which had grooved the hard -dirt. In the first square sat Ginevra - - "With raven ringlets unconfined, - And blowing madly in the wind." - -Her face and arms and bare legs were adorned with fantastic designs -in coloured chalk; and a frayed rope, attached by means of a -safety-pin to the hem of her dress, gave unmistakable evidence of a -tail. She was waving her arms violently, and giving vent to wild, -unearthly screams. Fridoline, in the next compartment, had wound -his fat body with coils of rope, which he was painstakingly chewing. -Tightly wedged into a dishpan in the third square, sat "Mixy" Murphy, -in an airy costume of shirt and drawers; while Mike, the Baby, and -the Other Baby were crawling about the ground in an abandonment of -delight. - -Miss Billy waited for a lull in the proceedings. When it came she -made haste to ask: - -"What in the world is all this?" - -Launcelot, who was strutting through the enclosure, armed with a -whip, took it upon himself to reply: - -"We're havin' a street carnival," he explained. "Fridoline is playin' -he's Bosco the Snake Eater, Jinny's Minnie the Wild Girl, an' Mixy -is the High Diver. You have to pay five pins to see him dive from -the fence to the tank. The Kids is camels, an' I'm boss o' the hull -outfit. Frid, jest show Miss Billy how much rope you can swaller -without gettin' black in the face." - -Miss Billy hastened to prevent the heroic exhibition. - -"Oh, no," she said, "you needn't mind, Friddie. I've got something -else for you to do. Wouldn't you all like to come over and see me -this morning?" - -The Street Carnival Company gave vent to a wild yell of delight. - -"Well, pick up your things first," cautioned Miss Billy, "and then -come quietly so you won't disturb your mother. I'll be waiting for -you." - -"Picking up the things" was accomplished with neatness and dispatch, -and five little Canarys, two Murphys, and Leo and Pius Coffee, picked -up on the way, were seated in the shade of the Lee woodshed in solemn -and somewhat embarrassed silence when Miss Billy appeared to welcome -her guests. Her arms were full of scarlet and white reeds, a big -basket swung from one arm, and a mysterious-looking cloth bag from -the other. She glanced around the augmented group with such surprise -that Launcelot felt called upon to explain. - -"I brung 'em along," he said, with a lordly motion of his hand toward -the unexpected guests. "If you was goin' to give us something to eat, -an' there ain't enough to go round, they kin go home." - -"Launkelot!" exclaimed Jinny. - -"The Levis wanted to come, too," said Fridoline. "Their mother's -goin' to the sin an' God." - -"Goosey!" jeered Launcelot. "Sin an' God! He means synagogue. That's -one on you, Frid." - -Fridoline, moved to tears by his brother's taunts, set up such a -wrathful outcry that Miss Billy began to fear for her reputation as a -hostess. - -"Never mind, Friddie," she said consolingly. "You may go and invite -the Levi children to come now, if you want to. Hurry up, and we'll -have something nice planned for you when you get back." Miss Billy -deposited her burden on the ground. "I'm going to let you all help -with my work," she said,--"every one of you, from Ginevra down to the -Baby. These long strips are for baskets, and I'm going to show you -how to make them for yourselves. The big basket is for a pattern, and -the bag is full of flower seeds for the little ones to sort out, and -take home for gardens of their own." - -The guests fell upon the work with great alacrity. - -"Wait a minute," protested Miss Billy. "We're not ready yet. We must -always wash our hands before we begin to work." - -This announcement dampened the ardour of the children. - -"Them as sorts seeds don't need to wash, do they?" asked Fridoline. - -"I choose to sort seeds!" came in a chorus from the smaller guests. - -"Oh, yes, they do," responded Miss Billy decidedly. "Why not, -Friddie?" - -"Dirt makes seeds grow," argued Fridoline. - -"Not till they're in the ground," returned the hostess. "We'll all go -up to the back porch to wash. I've got some cool water up there." - -A thorough and painstaking scrubbing took place on the back porch, -for Jinny, who was appointed Inspector of Persons, performed her -duties with impartial vigour and energy. Her delight in the toilet -soap was extreme, and she modestly requested a bit of it "to take -home for a sample." - -Beatrice and Maggie watched the proceedings with disgust, and -the children themselves did not look upon the occasion as one of -unalloyed pleasure; but Miss Billy was resolute, and the entire -throng were at least clean down to their necks and up to their wrists -when they took their places on the grass. - -Fridoline surveyed his hands gloomily. "If I'd 'a' known I had ter -wash I wouldn't have came," he said. - -"Friddie!" exclaimed Ginevra reproachfully. - -"Fridoline doesn't think that's a very nice way to treat company," -laughed Miss Billy. "He's like Horatius. - - "'And see,' he cried, 'the welcome, - Fair guests, that waits you here!'" - -"What's Hurashus?" asked Ginevra shyly. - -"Oh, he's a man in a story," responded Miss Billy. "The man who -fought so bravely." - -Launcelot pricked up his ears at the word "fought." "Who did he -fight? Tell us about him," he commanded. - -"Yes, please do," begged Ginevra. - -"As soon as I get your work started for you," promised Miss Billy. - -Her nimble fingers wove the bright reeds in and out for a few -minutes. The children gathered near; Ginevra settled The Baby on her -lap, and pulled the Other Baby close to her side. Then slowly and -carefully, as if to find words suitable for her childish audience, -Miss Billy began: - -"It happened many years ago when Rome was the biggest and the finest -and the richest city in the world, that there was a brave soldier and -gallant knight named Lars Porsena." - -"Two of 'em?" questioned Fridoline. - -"No, only one. Lars Porsena was the soldier and the knight too. And -because he was angry at one of the Romans he decided to lead a great -army against them. You know what an army is?" - -"Hoh! I sh'd say so! Soldiers!" replied Launcelot. - -"I know _you_ do," said Miss Billy, "but I thought the other children -might not know." - -"I'll explain it to 'em," said Launcelot loftily. "Kids, you remember -Buffalo Bill's men that was to the Shooting Park?" - -The little Canarys loudly proclaimed the excellence of their memory. - -"Well, them's soldiers," said Launcelot. "Go on, Miss Billy." - -"So he gathered his troops from everywhere--north and south and east -and west--till he had a great big army. There were ten thousand -horsemen, and twenty thousand men on foot. And with music playing and -banners flying and the sunlight glittering on their spears, they set -off towards Rome with Lars Porsena at the head." - -"Just like Buff'lo Bill," said Fridoline. - -"Sh," admonished Ginevra. - -"Sh, yourself," retorted Fridoline defiantly. - -"In the meantime the Romans knew they were coming, and they went down -by the river gate to talk it over. The Tiber river flowed by the -city, and there was a big bridge----" - -"How bid?" inquired little Mike. - -"I don't know how big, but it was very large indeed," went on Miss -Billy, "so that the enemy had to cross it before they could get into -the city. And there they waited until a messenger came flying up the -hill to tell them that Lars Porsena and his great army were very -near. They looked over to the west, and they saw the great cloud of -dust coming up from the road." - -"What was they goin' to do?" asked Jinny. - -"Why bust into the city an' kill the Romans," answered Launcelot. "Go -on, Miss Billy." - -"And the Romans knew that they would kill them all if they once got -across the bridge," continued the historian. "And they hurriedly -talked about what it was best to do. And then one of them had a plan. -He was a wonderfully brave and noble man, and he wasn't afraid of -anything." - -"Bet he'd been scaret of a hyena," said the oldest Levi boy. - -"He was not afraid of anything. And this was his plan. He told the -Romans that he would get two other men and alone they would cross the -bridge and meet the enemy on the other side. This is what he said: - - "'Hew down the bridge, sir consul, - With all the speed ye may; - I, with two more to help me - Will hold the foe in bay,-- - In yon straight path a thousand - May well be stopped by three. - Now who will stand on either hand - And keep the bridge with me?'" - -"Did they talk in po'try?" inquired Ginevra with awe. - -"Sometimes," said Miss Billy. "And two other brave men volunteered -to go with him. The three crossed the bridge together, and boldly -faced the army on the other side." The little Canarys showed signs -of restlessness, and the young Murphys yawned, so Miss Billy went on -hastily. "Of course there was a terrible battle there. Every time a -man set foot on the bridge Horatius or one of his companions would -rush upon him and slay him." - -"How? With a spearer?" inquired Aaron Levi with interest. - -The story teller nodded. "Till seven men lay dead, and Horatius -himself was wounded in the shoulder. The big army stood still. Their -chief was killed, and no soldier dared to move. Meanwhile the Romans -had been at work at the bridge with their axes, and it hung over -the river just ready to fall. The three men knew they must get back -before it dropped. They started, but the great bridge cracked, and -went down with a crash like thunder. Two of the men had time to get -over safely, but Horatius was too late. He had darted back, and stood -all alone on the bank of the river, with the enemy before him, and -the broad river behind him. And then what do you think he did?" - -"Speared 'em some more," suggested Aaron Levi. - -"Died fer his country," quavered Ginevra. - -"Waded home," said Fridoline. - -"No, the water was too deep. He sheathed his sword, and faint and -weary though he was, plunged into the raging flood." - -"Gee!" ejaculated Launcelot. - -"The water was very high, his armour was heavy, and his wound pained -him severely; but he kept on. The blood ran down upon his hands, and -he sank again and again; but he still swam on till not only the -Romans, but the great army on the other bank cheered him and prayed -for him. - -"And when he finally clambered out upon the shore, weary and weak and -worn, they shouted and clapped their hands for very joy." The ringing -words came involuntarily to Miss Billy's lips: - - "'And still his name sounds stirring - Unto the men of Rome, - As the trumpet-blast that cries to them - To charge the Volscian home; - And wives still pray to Juno - For boys with hearts as bold - As his who kept the bridge so well - In the brave days of old.'" - -"And the big army didn't ever get in?" asked Frank Murphy. - -"No, never." - -"What did they do to Horashuss?" inquired Launcelot. - -"Oh, they gave him a lot of land, for his own, and they set up a -great statue of him." - -"I seen statutes already," said Abraham Levi. - -"You did not," said his brother Aaron. - -"I did too. I seen 'em in the summitery." - -"He means the grave yard," explained Ginevra. "Aaron, stop hitting -your little brother." - -"He's a-swipin' my seeds," complained Aaron. - -"Well, stop it, both of you," said Launcelot decidedly, "or Miss -Billy'll give you a bat in the eye." - -The threat had the desired effect. Both of the little Levis subsided -suddenly. - -"You may take the seeds home and plant them yourselves," said Miss -Billy. "There are nasturtiums and petunias to put into a bed and -morning glories and flowering beans to train over porches. We'll all -have gardens of our own." - -"You've got a pretty yard," said Ginevra wistfully. - -"It's getting green," responded Miss Billy. "The grass seed is all -coming up over the bare spots. Now if you had a green lawn extending -to ours, and that shabby old fence between us was down----" - -"Why don't you pull it down?" inquired Launcelot. - -"I know Mr. Schultzsky would never let me," said Miss Billy. "I -wouldn't dare ask him. But it's so old and rotten that some day it -will just fall down itself, and then we'll have a barberry hedge -there, and the yard will begin to look like something." - -"What's a berbarry haige?" inquired Launcelot. - -"A nice little row of bushes trimmed evenly, so that it makes a low -fence," explained Miss Billy. "Listen, children, some one is calling." - -Mrs. Lee, who had come around the walk, smiled down at the little -group on the grass, whose full hands and happy faces bore testimony -of a pleasant morning. "Your mother will be all right in a day or -two," she said, "and Holly Belle wants you to come home for dinner." - -The children rose with reluctance. - -"Kin we come again?" asked Ginevra wistfully, as she gathered her -little charges. - -"Of course you can," said Miss Billy. "I'd love to have you here, if -you like to come. How would you like to spend two hours with me every -Saturday morning?" - -"What 'ud we do?" inquired Launcelot. - -"Oh, lots of pleasant things: We can sew and read, and play games, -and sing. I can find enough for you to do, never fear." - -"How much do we have to pay?" inquired Aaron Levi cautiously. - -"Not a cent," laughed Miss Billy. "The only price is clean hands and -face. We'll meet out here in the yard, and I'll raise children as -well as flowers. You'll be my child garden, you see. Come at nine -next Saturday, and we'll have another good time." - -The children filed happily around the corner of the house, all -talking at the same time, but their voices lowered as they passed -out of vision. They held a whispered conversation as they passed the -rickety fence, Launcelot expressing some iconoclastic sentiments -in a husky undertone. They were still whispering as they entered -the Canary yard, and edged mysteriously along the side of the house -between the porch and the fence. - -"It'll be just like playing Horashuss," urged Launcelot. - -"But what would Miss Billy think?" asked Ginevra doubtfully. - -"You heard what she said. She'd think it was brave!" said Launcelot -in his most lordly tones. - -"But s'pose some one would see?" quavered Ginevra. - -"Aw pshaw! They ain't no one a-goin' to see. And if they do, what -then? Go in if you're afraid." - -Ginevra hesitated. - -"Miss Billy'd like it," went on the tempter. His sister flung -prudence to the winds. "I'll help," she said. - -Holly Belle's voice rang out impatiently a second time: - -"Child-run, din-ner." - -"We'll be there in a minute," called Launcelot impatiently. "Now -hurry up, kids. Take a-hold, here. No, not so near together. Now, I'm -going to count. When I say three, you all pull like the dickens, and -then run, lickety split. Get out of the way there, Mike." - -The children grasped the rotten palings. - -"One--two--three," counted Launcelot. - -The little army gave a mighty tug. The rotten wood splintered, split, -yielded; the fence fell with a crash, and a sorry mass of decayed -boards covered the yard. - -The children waited to see no more, but rushed about the house as -though old Mr. Schultzsky himself was in their wake. - -Launcelot and Ginevra turned at the basement steps to help little -Mike, who had fallen upon his face in the stampede. From his place -of vantage Launcelot glanced around to see if they were being -pursued. There was no one in sight, and all was still. - -"Now," said Launcelot boldly, "Miss Billy can have her berbarry -haige." - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -BEATRICE - - "And he who wins the fight with Self - Has won the bravest battle." - - -"GOOD-BYE, Miss Billy." - -"Good-bye, Beatitude. You're a dear to help me off in this way. I -won't forget it in a hurry." - -"All rightie. See that you don't." - -"And Bea, don't vex your soul over that mending basket. It's only one -stitch in nine that saves time, you know." - -"I won't, but you'd better make haste; you'll miss the boat." - -"A miss wouldn't be as good as a mile then, would it? Good-bye, -again. Yes, mother, I _have_ a handkerchief. Also a corkscrew for the -olives. Also my rubbers. Good-bye, everybody." - -Miss Billy was going to a picnic, and in her usual way. The whole -house had been in an uproar since six o'clock. There had been a -hurried dressing, a hurried breakfast, and a hurried packing of -lunch; and it was not until the blue linen suit disappeared around -the corner that a lull fell over the home, and the household paused -to take breath. - -There were still the remains of the preparations for lunch to be -cleared away, the study to be made clean, and the disorder which was -left in Miss Billy's wake to be remedied. Her sister's work added -to her own took Beatrice longer than usual, and it was ten o'clock -before she came languidly into the garden with the mending basket -under her arm. She tumbled out a large bundle of ragged stockings, -and set to work. - -It was hot and deserted on Cherry Street. Even in the shade, where -Beatrice sat, the air was sultry and close, and the garden seat warm -to the touch. The children seemed to have melted away from sidewalk -and gutter. The absence of Miss Billy and Theodore had left the -place unnaturally dull and forlorn, and the incessant tick-tick of -the little creatures in the grass was the only sound that broke the -stillness. - -Beatrice's thoughts flew with her needle. Last year at this time the -whole family were at Gordon's Lake for the season. And it had been -such a gay summer. A summer of boating and dancing; of driving and -golfing, of pretty clothes, and new friends and good times. A summer -of long, jolly, merry days, and of long, cool, restful nights. A -summer that seemed made for the merriment that only ended when the -last good-byes were said. - -And now everybody else was going away; the Seabrookes, and the Van -Courtlands and even the Blanchards; and they were to be left at -home. It was all right for the rest of the family; Theodore hated -"resorts," and Miss Billy never seemed to care for anything so long -as she had her beloved books and flowers and children. "But I care," -thought Beatrice bitterly, "more than I ever thought I should care -for anything." - -It was easy enough to be good when one was happy, when good friends -and pleasant times and pretty clothes were one's birthright; but when -poverty and hard work was one's portion, when one's clothes were -shabby and when one lived on Cherry Street----! A hot tear baptised -Theodore's gay striped sock, and Beatrice, forgetful of her age -and dignity, put her head down on the garden seat, and like little -Cinderella, "let the tears have their way." - -The stout, rosy-faced man who came up the front walk and rang -the door bell did not look like a fairy godmother, but the most -beneficent fairies go about disguised. Beatrice was so busy wiping -her eyes that she did not notice his arrival, and as she went bravely -back to work she little guessed the surprise that was in store for -her. Not even the glad note in her mother's voice when she called her -into the house made her suspicious. - -The rosy-faced man was leaning up against the door of the study, -smiling benignantly at Mr. and Mrs. Lee. He beamed even more -delightedly as Beatrice entered. - -Mrs. Lee scarcely waited for their greeting. Her eyes shone as she -put her hand on her daughter's shoulder, and her voice was very happy -as she said: - -"Guess, dearie, what Mr. Van Courtland has come for. He wants you to -go abroad next week." - -The self-possessed Beatrice lost her dignity. She grew rosy with -delight and gasped speechlessly for a moment before she ejaculated -brokenly: - -"Me? To go abroad? Oh, mother!" - -That "oh, mother!" settled the matter, Mrs. Lee decided at once that -she must go. - -"It will not be a very long trip," explained Mr. Van Courtland. "We -did not intend to start until later, but that bugbear 'business' -stands like a fence between me and the rest of the world. Be -thankful, Lee, that you are not a banker. Mrs. Van Courtland and I -shall sail on the 16th, land seven days later, and go immediately -to Cologne for Margaret. We hope to be in Germany long enough -for the Rhine trip, but shall probably sail for home immediately -afterwards. We planned to borrow Miss Billy to take with us, but Mrs. -Van Courtland says that the sea breezes will be just the thing for -Beatrice's pale cheeks. She ought to see you this minute, young lady. -You're anything but pale and wan now." - -Beatrice did not even notice the compliment. Her brain was moving -faster than Mr. Van Courtland's words. Europe, sea breezes, the -Rhine! To leave the heat and dust of the city, the shabbiness and -noise of Cherry Street, for the enchanting country across the sea. -It seemed like a glorious dream of white-capped waves and cool -breezes, from which one must wake up to the swarming Canarys and the -loud-voiced Hennesys on Cherry Street. - -"And if she goes, she goes as our guest. Mrs. Van Courtland dreads -the trip, and I confess a lingering longing for a young piece of -humanity when I am aboard ship. As for our own Margie,--why she will -jump out of her beloved Germany with joy when she sees a glimpse of -her home friend. We will consider it a great favour if you'll lend us -your girl for a while." - -The matter was hurriedly decided. Mrs. Lee looked over at her husband -with a quick glance that showed how much motherly love and anxiety -for her daughter was at stake. The minister answered with a nod and a -smile that seemed to say, "We must manage it." - -Mr. Van Courtland departed satisfied, and Beatrice returned to the -garden seat to dreamily wind the darning cotton into a snarl, and -whisper joyfully to herself, "I am going abroad." - -There was a family council after supper that night. Beatrice had -rather dreaded to tell Miss Billy the glorious news, feeling that the -trip was originally planned for the younger sister, but Miss Billy -sternly frowned upon her sister's reticence. - -"The idea!" she said scornfully, "of thinking that I should be -so mean and small about a thing like this. You would have been -delighted if this trip had come to me,"--Beatrice made a small mental -reservation--"and it belongs to you anyway. You need it more than I -do." - -If she felt any disappointment she failed to show it either in action -or word, but went on making extravagant plans, and most elaborate -suggestions for the trip. She offered to lend Beatrice anything and -everything she possessed, from her cut glass vase to her ice cream -freezer, and the last thing the elder sister heard that night was a -recipe for sea sickness and an idea for making over a travelling suit -out of Miss Billy's brown gown. - -It was daybreak when Beatrice awoke. The house was very still and -quiet, and the light morning breeze blew aside the white curtains at -the windows. Beatrice raised herself on one elbow and looked out -at the little glimpse of water visible between the high roofs. The -sun was rising, away out on the breast of the lake, and each little -ruffled wave was touched with a crest of gold. - -Beatrice was not often affected by her surroundings, but just now, -in the light of her new happiness, the day seemed symbolic of her -life, and the sun that gilded the grey waves like the pleasant plan -that had made her sombre life glad. Yesterday's grief seemed very far -away, and to-day's joy was very near and dear. She clasped her hands, -and whispered earnestly: "Help me to deserve it, Lord." The sounds -of the two whispered voices which came from the next room did not -disturb her, and she lay dreamily happy in her own thoughts, until -the sound of her own name aroused her. It was her father's voice that -said: - -"Well, Beatrice needs it. We must manage it some way." - -The girl turned her head, and listened intently as he continued: - -"How much money is it going to cost us?" - -Mrs. Lee's estimate was not discernible, but her husband's reply -betrayed its tenor: - -"I wish a hundred dollars came as easily to me now as it did six -months ago." - -"I don't see how we can do it for any less," said Mrs. Lee. "Bea's -wardrobe is scanty, and she will require more clothes than she -needs when she is at home. Beside, she will have to have money for -incidentals. Mr. Van Courtland is very generous, but we don't want to -impose on him, or embarrass Beatrice." - -"Oh, no, she can't get along with any less. Still, it will be a -little hard to spare just now. I feel our poverty most when it -touches the children." - -"It _is_ a good deal, but I think it's worth the sacrifice. Beatrice -has looked white and worn lately, and we can't afford to let her be -sick." - -"I hadn't noticed it," said Mr. Lee anxiously. "Do you think she's -not well?" - -"It's heart sickness as much as anything else. Bea has never seemed -happy since we moved onto Cherry Street. She misses the old home and -the old friends. She was not so easily reconciled as Wilhelmina and -Theodore." - -"Then I think more than ever that we must manage it. I shall not -regret the effort if she comes back physically improved. After -that I'll trust the mental and moral indisposition to take care of -themselves. Bea is not naturally pessimistic." - -"But I don't see exactly how we are to arrange it. We are living so -near to our income just now; and I don't know how to economise more -closely than I have been doing." - -Mr. Lee made a suggestion that Beatrice did not hear, to which his -wife replied decidedly: - -"No, dear man, you can't get along without that. A minister can't -afford to go shabby. We'll find some other way of saving. I can let -Maggie go home for a month or two. Beatrice's going away will make -the family smaller, and I'm sure Wilhelmina and I could do the -housework." - -"No indeed." The minister's voice was most emphatic. "That would be -extravagant economy. You would be sick in a month. I can spare the -money, I'm sure, but I shall have to give up a cherished plan to do -it. I hoped to be able to rent a horse and buggy for you two days a -week this summer. You don't get enough of out of doors, and it tires -you so to walk." - -There was a glad little note in Mrs. Lee's reply that went straight -to Bea's heart. - -"Oh, if that is all!" she exclaimed. "Why John, I'd rather never -drive again than to have Beatrice miss this opportunity. It will mean -so much to her. Beside, dear, do you think I would enjoy driving -around in state while my husband was shabby?" - -"No, it doesn't sound like you," said Mr. Lee. "Still, I would like -to do it for you," he added wistfully. - -"Well, dear, don't say a word to spoil Beatrice's pleasure. She -seemed so glad to go! And I think we all would be willing to -sacrifice ourselves a little for her sake." - -The conversation ended there. The father and mother went back to -sleep, and the eavesdropper returned to her pillow with wet eyes. Her -soul, as well as her body, was wide awake, and perhaps for the first -time in her life, Beatrice realised the beauty and divineness of self -sacrifice. In the light of the whispered conversation the melancholy -of the day before seemed petty and unworthy, and the girl who sternly -choked back the tears of disappointment was not the girl who had wept -in the garden. Nobody ever knew of the struggle which took place in -the little white bed, nor was any the wiser for the puddle of tears -that made a miniature lake in the pillow; but Beatrice was victor in -the battle with herself. - -As the clock struck five, a slim little figure in white crept -silently out of bed, and tiptoed over to the desk, that Miss Billy -should not be wakened. A stranger would not have appreciated the -depth of the struggle; but to Beatrice it was the tragedy of a -lifetime, and there was real heroism in the letter which read: - - "DEAR, DEAR MR. VAN COURTLAND: - - "I hope you won't think I am silly to change my mind so - suddenly, after all the arrangements were made yesterday, - but I have decided that I must not go. I know that you - won't misunderstand my motive, because you know how much I - long to go, and how grateful I am to you both for inviting - me. - - "Father and mother both are willing that I should go, but - I know that my trip would mean a big sacrifice on their - part, which I am not willing to accept. You and Mrs. Van - Courtland have always been so kind to me that I am sure - you will understand what I mean, and help me to do what is - right. - - "I can never tell you how grateful I am to both of you. - - "Lovingly yours, - - "BEATRICE LEE." - - - - -CHAPTER X - -A BROKEN SIDEWALK - - "Does he study the wants of his own dominion? - Or doesn't he care for public opinion - A JOT? - The Akond of Swat." - - -MISS BILLY entered the study with an agitated whirl of ribbons and -hair. Her hat was off, her face flushed, and every curl stood on end. - -"What do you think I have discovered?" she said in indignant tones. - -Beatrice looked up calmly from her mother's chair. Mr. and Mrs. -Lee were spending the day away from home, and the elder daughter -responded to the question with a little air of authority that was -particularly exasperating to Miss Billy in her present mood: - -"If you had asked what you had _lost_ I should know," she said -coolly. "Your temper has evidently gone astray." - -"I know I'm foolish to blaze up so suddenly," admitted Miss Billy; -"but it's the injustice of the thing that made me hot. Mrs. Canary -has just been telling me how much rent the Caseys paid for this -house." - -"How much was it?" inquired Beatrice. "Less than we are paying?" - -"Fifteen dollars instead of twenty," said Miss Billy indignantly. -"But of course I wouldn't say a word about it if old Mr. Schultzsky -had made the repairs he promised. He hasn't lived up to his agreement -at all. We paid for having the house painted; father furnished the -screens; Theodore mended the gate, and I propped up the back fence, -myself. That window upstairs is still broken, and when Ted reminded -him of it he grunted and remarked that the cold weather was over. -The doorbell is out of order, the step is broken, and that walk in -front of the house is a disgrace to the world. The whole tottering -skeleton of a house will fall in a heap some day. If we pay twenty -dollars a month for rent, as we agreed, he is going to do the things -he agreed to." - -"How are you going to bring this law of equality about?" inquired -Theodore. - -Miss Billy hesitated. The conferences with the landlord in the past -had not met with any visible amount of success. Still there were -forces which had not as yet been brought to bear. Miss Billy decided -quickly, as was her custom. - -"What he needs is some one to tell him a few unvarnished truths," she -said energetically. "Father is too easy to deal with him, and mother -is too ladylike. I'm going to interview him myself." - -"Billy the Bold!" exclaimed Theodore. "My heart swells with pride at -your courage. Where and when is the interview to take place?" - -"I don't know," said Miss Billy dubiously. "I don't believe he has -an office, and I hate to go inside that mouldy old shell across the -street. I have my suspicions about his living there, anyway. He looks -as though he slept in that old buggy of his." - -"You might advertise and arrange a meeting that way," suggested -Theodore. "'Sprightly maiden of sixteen wishes to meet a scholarly -and refined gentleman of sixty-five. Object, new sidewalk, and what -may follow.'" - -"I've half a mind to tackle him to-day," said Miss Billy musingly. -"The rent is due, and I might soften the blow with a generous bill. -I believe I'll try it. Give me the rent money, Theodore. I'll get a -promise out of him, or die in the attempt!" - -"Do you mean to say you're going to pay him the rent yourself, and -express your sentiments then?" asked Theodore. - -"Yes, I do," returned Miss Billy stoutly. - -"What shall you say to him?" asked Beatrice, with a note of -admiration in her usually even voice, for Miss Billy never looked -prettier than when she stood in her face-the-world attitude, with -eyes big and earnest and face aglow. - -"She will arm herself with the butcher-knife and the rent money," -jeered Theodore, "and meet him at the door. And, withering him -beneath her stern and forbidding glance, she will say: 'Move at the -peril of your life. Mend the doorbell, put in the glass and fix the -front walk before you speak a word. Stand and deliver.' And he will -remark, like Riley's tree-toad, 'Don't shoot, I'll come down'; and -ask, yea, beseech her to permit him to go for his tack hammer." - -"Well, we need the improvements badly enough," said Beatrice, -"but I don't think you'd better try it, Wilhelmina. It seems so -bold,--somehow. Besides, you won't get anything out of him." - -"Just you wait and see," said Miss Billy confidently. - -It was about an hour later that Mr. Schultzsky's thin horse stopped -at the gate, and Mr. Schultzsky himself shuffled up the narrow walk -to the front door. - -"Here comes your victim, Sisterling," announced Theodore cheerfully. -"Do you feel that you need me for a witness, or to preserve the -dignity of the occasion?" - -Billy took off her sweeping-cap, and slowly adjusted the safety pins -at the back of her shirt-waist. - -"Just let him wait a while," she said. "That'll show him that the -bell is out of order." But in spite of her savage words she met him -at the door smilingly. - -"Good-morning, Mr. Schultzsky," she said cordially. "Will you come -in?" - -For answer Mr. Schultzsky held out his monthly account. - -"Oh, the rent bill!" responded Miss Billy. "You're like the stork, -Mr. Schultzsky, that always comes around with a big bill. But I want -to talk with you a few minutes. Won't you come in?" - -The landlord ignored the feeble joke, and gave a stolid grunt, which -Miss Billy interpreted as a refusal. "Well," she said, sitting down -on the doorstep, "if you won't come in I suppose I can talk to you -here. Mr. Schultzsky, perhaps you noticed that our doorbell is -broken." - -The old man made no reply, and Miss Billy went on: - -"The window upstairs has never been mended----" - -Mr. Schultzsky shuffled his feet uneasily, but gave no other sign of -having heard her speech. - -"And our front walk is so broken that it will be the death of -somebody some day," continued Miss Billy. She paused for a response, -but none came. - -"When we came in here you promised to put the house in good repair -for us," said the girl desperately, "but you have not kept your word. -Everything that is new about the premises _we_ have added. Theodore -put up the fence, and has been puttering around the place ever since -we moved in; the bill for painting and papering the house was sent -to father (I never should have paid it if I had been in his place), -although you promised to have it done. The whole house is shaky on -its legs, and weak in its joints, and yet we are paying you big rent -for it. I found out to-day that you are charging us five dollars a -month more than you did the last tenants." - -Did Miss Billy imagine it, or was there a gleam of avaricious triumph -in the half-closed eyes? "You are not dealing fairly with us!" she -exclaimed wrathfully. Then, in a more amiable tone, she added: "We -_want_ to be good tenants, you know; but aren't you going to make any -of your promises good?" - -Mr. Schultzsky took out his dingy bandanna and mopped his forehead. -He made neither apology nor protest. "The rent is due," he said. Miss -Billy's cheeks glowed as she meekly handed out the bills. "Maybe -they'll make him more responsive," she thought to herself. - -The landlord folded them, put them carefully into a huge wallet, and -placing the rent account against the side of the house, receipted the -paper in a queer cramped hand. Then thrusting it into her mechanical -grasp, he turned, and without another word, shuffled off down the -walk. - -He hesitated at the gate and turned. "Good-morning, ma'am," he said. -Then climbing into the rattle-trap, he drove rapidly away. Miss -Billy, left alone on the doorstep, was torn by conflicting emotions. -Angry as she was, she could not fail to see the humour in her -ignominious defeat. And she was not the only one who was amused. The -screen in Theodore's window came down with a bang, and a boyish voice -chanted: - - "B was once a little Bear, - Beary, wary, hairy, beary, - Taky cary, little bear." - -Miss Billy at once retorted: - - "G was once a little goose, - Goosy, moosy, boosey, goosey, - Waddly-woosy, little goose," - -and added, "Did you hear our conversation?" - -"_Our_ conversation! I heard _yours_. Is Mr. Schultzsky going to fix -the premises, or did he raise the rent?" - -"The old icicle!" scolded Miss Billy. "I couldn't get a word of -satisfaction out of him. When he skewered me with those sharp eyes of -his I couldn't talk." - -"His glances would be in good demand in this family," remarked -Theodore. "I'm glad you got slammed, myself. You were so all-fired -smart about making an impression on him. I suppose you thought that -when you had an axe to grind he'd run at your bidding with the -cheerful expression of the lion on the Norway coat-of-arms. You've -got your come-up-ance, Miss Billy." - -His sister deigned no reply. - -"What are you going to do about the sidewalk?" inquired her tormentor. - -"Fix it myself," said Miss Billy haughtily. - -"I'd like to see you do it," said Theodore. "It will be the second -thing you've made a failure of on this bright and beautiful holiday." - -"Wait and see," said Miss Billy, with determination in her step. She -made her way to the pile of packing boxes in the cellar. "They won't -make very good lumber," she said to herself, "but they're all I can -get without sacrificing my own modest and retiring income. Beside, I -suppose they will be easier to work with than heavy planking would -be." It took time and strength to knock the boxes to pieces, and -measure the boards; but Miss Billy was a born carpenter, and Ted's -parting words added impetus to the task. An hour later, Beatrice, -attracted by the noise of hammering in front of the house, looked -out of the window. Down on her knees on the front walk was Miss -Billy. She had on a chemistry apron made of gorgeous striped ticking, -which was much stained by chemicals used in the school laboratory. -A hideous garden hat was perched rakishly on her head, and a pair -of Theodore's old gloves protected her hands. Her face was flushed, -and her hair towsled; but two of the rotten planks in the walk had -already been replaced by clean new ones, and the young carpenter was -nailing down a third with great energy. Five of the Canarys and a -varied assortment of Murphys and Levis were grouped around the spot, -making a most appreciative audience. - -Beatrice waited to see no more. She threw on a hat, and rushed to the -fence. - -"Wilhelmina Lee!" she exclaimed angrily. - -Miss Billy raised a moist and somewhat grimy face. - -"What are you doing?" inquired Her sister. - -"Mending the walk," answered Miss Billy, articulating with some -difficulty, for her mouth was full of nails. - -"Well I should think you'd be ashamed," said Beatrice with spirit. - -"I regret to say that I am a trifle ashamed," said Billy, removing -the nails. "I have a miserable kind of false pride that fills me with -dread lest any one of the Blanchard type see me doing honest labour. -That's why I put this apron on,--for a disguise, you know." - -"You needn't worry about concealing your identity," responded -Beatrice angrily. "Nobody in the world but you would come out in full -view of the public to make an exhibition of herself." - -Miss Billy turned to her childish audience. "The public don't seem to -be shocked," she said. - -"If mother were home----" began Beatrice. - -"Well, she isn't," responded Miss Billy coolly, "and I'm hoping to -finish this walk before she gets back. You'd better go in, Bea. The -chips may hit you." - - "Although through life she'd stride and stalk, - She put some boards in father's walk," - -chanted Theodore, looking over the fence; "Goodness, Miss Billy, -have you done this much yourself? You are not only a model of -industry, but a talented carpenter. I suppose now I'll have to -acknowledge my defeat, and come and finish the job." - -"You certainly will _not_ have to finish the job," retorted Miss -Billy, "although I shall be glad to hear your humble apology." - -"Don't you want any help?" - -"No," returned his sister stoutly. - -"I'm sorry," said Theodore, hanging his coat on the fence, "for I'll -have to work 'agin your will.' It isn't that I distrust your ability, -Miss Billy, but I should hate to have the neighbours say 'Look at -that poor Lee girl laying a walk to save her brother's white and -shapely hands.'" - -Miss Billy heaved a sigh of relief. "I have to confess that I shall -be glad of your help," she said. "I know now what it means to go -'agin the grain.' Every one of those boards grew in that way." - -"Sit on the curbstone and boss the job," commanded Theodore, "while -your talented brother performs on the saw for a while. Miss Billy, in -spite of all that flumpy motion of yours, I am still proud of you. -You haven't much in the way of gait, but you have lots of grit." - -The last visitor was John Thomas, who was returning from the grocery. -He stopped at the sight of Theodore, who was driving nails and -fitting boards, and sending Miss Billy into gales of laughter with -his droll remarks. - -"Would you be likin' help?" inquired John Thomas timidly. - -"No, no, indeed," responded Theodore promptly. "Shall I let your -ruthless hand have any share in this matchless work of art? Perish -the thought! Why, John Thomas, this walk is my masterpiece, the -work that shall live after me. Behold in me the Michael Angelo of -sidewalks. After my death people will gaze upon this construction -with tears and pride, and my monument will bear flattering mention of -my prowess." - - "Although his gift was mainly talk, - He put some boards in father's walk," - -said Miss Billy, with a sly twinkle. - -"That's too good to be impromptu," accused Theodore. "You made that -up in the privacy of your apartments, and have been waiting for the -chance to spring it on me. Now you observe what sisters' taunts are, -John Thomas." - -"I know already," said John Thomas. "That darn Mary Jane----" - -"Tut, tut, John Thomas," interceded Miss Billy. "Marie Jean is not as -bad as she is painted." - -"Or powdered," added John Thomas with a sardonic grin. - -"How's that for a highly coloured statement, Miss Billy?" asked -Theodore impudently. - -Miss Billy tried to look severe, but the dimples would show in spite -of her efforts. John Thomas gazed at her merry face admiringly. "I -wisht you was my sister," he said. "You can make fun over people, -without making fun _of_ 'em. Mary Jane is the most provoking--say, -don't you want me to help you, honest?" - -"Not now," said Theodore. "We have to go back to school this -afternoon, and there are no more planks left, anyway. I'll tell you -what you _can_ do, John Thomas. If you'll help me finish this, next -week, I'll turn in afterwards, and help you mend the broken planks in -yours." - -"All right," assented John Thomas, not unwillingly. - -"We'll show old Abraham Schultzsky-czaravitch that we don't need his -help," continued Ted; "and the people on Cherry Street how sidewalks -ought to look. What shall I do with those decrepit places near the -gate? There isn't another board in sight." - -"Dear me," said Miss Billy. "We should have begun at the other end of -the walk, where the planks are in the worst condition. Some one will -be sure to go through those two old boards, and break a leg or two -before next week." - -"Maybe it'll be old Moneybags himself," suggested Theodore cheerfully. - -"I hope it will," said Miss Billy. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -WEEDS - - "Witch-grass and nettle and rag-weed grope,-- - Paupers that eat the earth's riches out,-- - Nightshade and henbane are lurking about, - Like demons that enter in - When a soul has run waste to sin." - - -JUNE, departing, had scattered her wealth of floral treasures wide -over the land, and Cherry Street, lowliest child of her adoption, -had not been forgotten. Under the wholesome influence of trowel, -watering-can, and good black soil Miss Billy's garden had grown -apace, and now burst into such a riotous excess of bloom as brought -the small Cherryites to the fence in groups of silent adoration. Beds -of scarlet geraniums glowed like the heart of rubies on the green -lawn. Sweet peas were opening their pretty eyes and peeping over into -Mr. Hennesy's yard. June roses, white, pink, and blood red, swung on -their stems breathing incense night and day, while on the side of the -house bloomed the pansy bed, hundreds of pretty faces of many colours -and marvellous size. Over the back fence nasturtiums were opening -their golden hearts, and a group of tall hollyhocks stood boldly -disputing right of way with the arms of the Hennesy clothes reel. - -Mrs. Hennesy had been sweeping, and now she stood in the upstairs -window looking down at the floral display in her neighbour's yard. - -"It do be lookin' loike a park, Mary Jane," she commented at last. -"Mrs. Casey was a good neighbour an' its mesilf that'll niver be over -missin' her,--but she niver had things lookin' loike that. An' it's -that girl--'Miss Billy,' as they call her,--that's done it all." - -Marie Jean, who had condescended to the menial task of setting her -bureau drawers to rights, turned her head slightly. "Well," she -commented indifferently, "if she wants to waste her time on an old -garden I suppose it's nobody's business but her own." - -Mrs. Hennesy discreetly waived the argument. "I think I'll be goin' -over there to see thim this afthernoon, Mary Jane. They're that noice -an' frindly it ain't roight for us not to be goin' near thim. Miss -Billy has axed me twice to have you come over. It ain't neighbourly, -Mary Jane,--that's what it ain't." - -"Well, go on if you want to," said Marie Jean, beginning to hum a -tune to show the matter was too trifling for further consideration; -but she broke off to add, "wear your bead cape and your lace bonnet -if you do go." - -Mrs. Hennesy's face took on a look of despair. "Well now, Mary Jane," -she began, "it's just a neighbour, an' a clane apron----" - -"You must wear your bead cape and your lace bonnet," reiterated Marie -Jean, with spirit. "And be sure you go to the front door. You must go -decently, or not at all." - -Mrs. Hennesy departed from the room, and presently went down the -stairs in all the glory of her best dress, augmented by the bead cape -and the lace bonnet. Marie Jean secretly surveyed her through the -crack of the door, and returned to her task somewhat mollified. "I -guess they won't find anything to laugh at in that bead cape," she -said, with a toss of her head. - -Mrs. Hennesy passed out through the kitchen door, but returned again. -She drew off her black silk mitts, stepped to the stairs to see if by -any chance Marie Jean was listening, and tiptoed back to the kitchen -cupboard. She looked uncertainly into the coffee can which was quite -full, then into the tea caddie which was half full, and finally shook -the sugar box, which responded roundly. "Well, I'll borry some tea, -annyway," she whispered, and taking a cup, secreted it carefully -under the bead cape. Thus fortified, she passed around to the front -gate, and, thankful that Marie Jean's point of vision could no -longer command her actions, hurried around by way of the pansy bed -to her neighbour's side entrance and rapped at the door. - -Mrs. Lee responded to the summons. "Why, it is Mrs. Hennesy," she -said cordially, extending a hand to welcome her neighbour. "Do come -in. It is cooler here in the dining room than in any other place in -the house at this time of the day, so we'll sit right here. Beatrice, -won't you take Mrs. Hennesy's cape and bonnet?" - -"Well, now, I can't stay a minute," protested Mrs. Hennesy, in her -soft Irish brogue. "I must be goin' back to start supper fer Mr. -Hennesy, fer he gets no dinner these days but the bite he takes wid -him in a pail. An' I only stepped over to see if I c'ud borry a -drawin' of tea fer his supper. Me an' Mary Jane has been that busy -all day we c'udn't get to the store." - -The cup was filled with the desired "drawing of tea," and stood -in readiness on the table, but as the minutes sped, Mrs. Hennesy, -warm and perspiring, but loyal for Marie Jean's sake to the bead -cape, began to feel more at ease. Mrs. Lee was not like Mrs. Casey, -it was true, and could never fill her place,--but she would make a -good neighbour,--and the girls were as pretty as pictures with their -contrasting styles of beauty and pretty dresses. - -Of course, they were not to be compared with Mary Jane. Mary Jane -was--well, more dressed-up like and stylish, than these Lee girls. -But they were nice and kind, and treated their mother like a queen. -Mrs. Hennesy wished Mary Jane might be there to see it. - -"Sure an' Mary Jane will be in to see you wan of these days, soon," -said Mrs. Hennesy as she rose to terminate her call. "It's bashful -she is, or else jealous, wid John Thomas soundin' Miss Billy's -praises all day long. It's 'Miss Billy says this,' an' 'Miss Billy -does that,' an' he thinks Mary Jane can't hould a candle to Miss -Billy,--an' that's the thruth of it." - -"And I think John Thomas is a jewel," declared Miss Billy warmly. "I -wouldn't have a flower now if it wasn't for him. Do come out and look -at them, Mrs. Hennesy,--and carry a bouquet to your daughter from me." - -"Well now,--if them ain't lovely," declared Mrs. Hennesy, as Miss -Billy began culling with a generous hand. "An' thim ould fashioned -hollyhocks, as sassy as you plaze. Another summer an' I'll be havin' -some fer mesilf." - -"You may have slips and seeds from all my plants," responded Miss -Billy generously, "and John Thomas could easily bring the dirt." - -Mrs. Hennesy shook her head doubtfully. "It's wades I'd be after -raisin'," she protested. "Sure an' flowers don't be growin' fer ivery -wan loike they do fer you." - -"Weeds!" Miss Billy took up the words dolefully. "Mrs. Hennesy, weeds -are making my existence miserable. Look at my hands from keeping -the weeds down. But it's no use,--look there!" She pointed as she -spoke, up and down Cherry Street, and Mrs. Hennesy's following glance -took in a long vista of rank vegetation flanking every sidewalk -and dooryard, weeds great and small, broad and feathery, tall and -diminutive, flaunting their rank growth in the hot sunshine. - -"Well, thim's not all yours," said Mrs. Hennesy consolingly. "There's -none in your yard, so ye needn't care." - -"Oh, but I see them, and I hate them so!" said Miss Billy -despairingly. "And the seeds are beginning to blow over here. The -plantain and dandelions are killing my new grass already." - -"Well, wheriver there's good, there's bad," said Mrs. Hennesy -philosophically: "An' if the good stopped tryin' an' quit what w'ud -become of the world, I'd loike to know? Hould fast to yer flowers, -Miss Billy, an' remimber whereiver wan of thim grows a weed can't," -with which comforting advice the kind-hearted Mrs. Hennesy, holding -fast to Marie Jean's bouquet and the borrowed cup of tea, took her -departure. - -The setting of the sun brought relief to Cherry Street. Every tiny -porch held its household group, and the clear moonlight and cool -breeze brought recompense for the glare and toil of the day. By -degrees the noisy laughter and outcries of children waned and ceased, -the murmured talk of their elders died away, and the street was -wrapped in slumber. - -It was then Miss Billy came softly from her room, clad in a flowing -wrapper. She listened longest at Theodore's door, till, satisfied -by his heavy breathing that he slept, she descended the stairs and -stepped out into the moonlight. - -Mingled with the perfume of her roses came the rank breath of the -weeds, bringing malarial poisons to the sleepers of Cherry Street. -Mrs. Hennesy's words came uppermost in her mind. "Wherever there's -good, there's bad,--and if the good stopped trying, what would become -of the world?" "Well, I'm going to help all I can, and I'm going -to commence on Mr. Schultzsky's premises." She caught up a sickle, -crossed the sidewalk jubilantly, and bumped into another pale wraith, -sickle in hand, who straightened himself suddenly from the O'Brien -weeds. - -"John Thomas Hennesy!" she exclaimed. "How you frightened me! What -are you doing out here at this time of night?" - -John Thomas wiped the honest drops of toil from his brow and regarded -her sickle suspiciously. "I'm cutting weeds. I've cut our own and now -I'm cutting Canary's. What are you going to do, I'd like to know?" - -"I'm going to cut Mr. Schultzsky's," said Miss Billy, in a gay stage -whisper. "No,--not a word, John Thomas,--I want the satisfaction of -laying those weeds low myself." - -"Well if she ain't a reg'lar brick!" said John Thomas admiringly, as -the swish of her sickle came across the street to his ears. "Catch -Mary Jane taking a sickle in her lily white hand to----" - -The rest of his sentence was lost in the sound of his own sickle as -it played dexterously among the O'Brien weeds. - -There were other ears than John Thomas's on which fell the swish of -Miss Billy's keen blade that night. Two eyes peered down from an -open window of the Schultzsky house on a girl kneeling in the very -dooryard. A girl who might have been mistaken for a saving angel -with the moonlight on her wavy hair and flowing gown. A girl who -attacked the weeds in a very fury of resentment, and scattered their -rank growth in every direction. The eyes peered and peered, and then -withdrew,--but gave no sign. - -It was ten o'clock the next morning when Miss Billy came sleepily -down to her breakfast. Theodore met her with suspicion lurking in his -eye, but sang carelessly: - - "The lark is up to meet the sun,-- - The bee is on the wing: - The ant its labours has begun---- - -"Say Sis, who cut all those weeds last night?" - -"Theodore," said Miss Billy pathetically, with a nervous sense of -aching muscles, and a weariness on which his raillery grated, "is -there any breakfast?" - -"There is," said Theodore; "I couldn't half eat mine, I was so -excited. I've been bursting to tell you the news for two hours. -Guess, Sis, what's happened?" - -"What?" said Miss Billy, looking apprehensive. That it was something -portentous she knew from Theodore's manner. - -"Mr. Schultzskyczarovitch fell through the rotten planks of our -sidewalk this morning at eight o'clock, and broke his leg, even as -you wished." - -"Oh," said Miss Billy faintly, and then for no reason at all -collapsed in a little heap to the carpet. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD - - "Will you please to go away? - That is all I have to say." - - -MRS. CANARY was, literally speaking, behind the times. The weekly -edition of that romantic sheet, the _Household Times_, had just -arrived, and the mistress of the house had been unable to resist -the temptation to "lose herself" in its crackling folds for a few -minutes. It was Sunday morning, and the Sabbath to the Canary family -meant the dressing of five children for attendance at a house of -worship. There was a strong odour of soap and sanctity about the -little home, but the mother was reading aloud, totally oblivious to -the noise and confusion surrounding her: - -"Si-lunce reigned in the great hall as the Duke faced his quack-ing -vik-tum. The res-o-lute blood of his dough-ty ancest-ers shone in his -deep eyes. 'I little expect-ed this of you, Phil-lup,' he said at -last. The cring-ing slave fell abjeck-ly at his feet, without a word. -The calm un-im-passioned voice per-ceeded. 'Fate has played you a -sorry trick,' it said. - -"The man gru-vel-ing at his feet made no reply, but the Duke's keen -eye caught the gleam of a shining blade. 'Traitor, Mis-cre-ant,' he -hissed, 'would you play me false in my own hall?' and he fell upon -the fiendish form." - -From the Duke's hall to the Canary kitchen was only a step. In -the latter place the long-suffering Holly Belle was having a -discussion with Fridoline as to the merits of church-going for the -rising generation. Fridoline was determined of chin, and fiery of -disposition, and at the early age of seven had conceived a violent -aversion to the ritual of faith, and the proper observance of -the Sabbath. The following patient monologue floated through the -half-closed door: - -"Oh, yes you will, Fridoline. Every one goes to Sunday School.... -Here's the blacking all ready for you.... No, you can't wash first. -What's the use of getting clean and then gauming yourself all up -agin?... Black the _heels_ of the shoes. Yes, they do show, too.... -No, Friddie dear, please don't put on that clean collar until you -wash your neck. Let me help you wash.... Well, I won't, if you don't -want me to, but you are never pertic'ler about the edges, you know -you ain't.... Stop brushing Mike's hair with that blacking brush!... -Friddie, I'll tell Ma!... No, your neck ain't clean, an' your ears -are a sight. Let me take that rag a minute. No, I won't get your coat -collar wet.... Don't work your face that way, Friddie; it can't be -as stiff as that.... Well, don't _open_ your mouth, _then_ you won't -taste it.... Stop hitting my elbow.... Fridoline Canary!... I hate -to tell on you, but if you don't stop I will.... Ma, make Friddie -stop!" - -Mrs. Canary, putting her forefinger between the pages of the Duke's -history, came to the doorway and looked in,--the picture of grieved -amazement. - -"Why, Fridoline," she exclaimed. "Why do you hurt that loving sister -of yours? Elbows is tender in ladies. Holly Belle, I wouldn't be too -pertic'ler about the edges. He was washed good last Wednesday." - -"Sh'd say I was," growled Fridoline, looking vengefully at his -sister. "They's no need of making me as wet as wash-day agin. Holly -Belle's too doggoned clean." - -"Ye look as shiny as a new mirror," said his mother proudly. "There's -nothing like Ivory soap for bringing out all there is in a man. You -look every inch a policeman's son. Now your uncle Weatherby, who -holds a government position at Washington, D.C.----" - -"Do I have to go to Sunday School, ma?" whined Fridoline. - -"Don't interrupt, Friddie dear," said his mother mildly. "You put me -all out of mind of what I was goin' to say. Certainly you do have to -go to Sabbath School. I ain't goin' to have it said that I ever let -circumstances interfere with religion." - -"I hate Sunday School," complained Fridoline; "I don't get no good -going." - -"Oh, yes you do, son," encouraged his mother. "You learn lots. Didn't -you get promoted from primary to secondary less'n a month ago?" - -"Yes," growled the boy, "en the only difference is that ye put a -nickel in the collection instead of a cent. I'm goin' to be changed -back agin." - -"No, ye ain't," said his mother decidedly. "You get that church down -on ye, and ye'll miss the Sunday School picnic. But I'll tell ye what -ye can do, Friddie. After the picnic ye can all make a change and -go to Mr. Lee's church. The Weatherbys have always been Baptists, -but out of compliment to Mr. Lee I'm willin' to let you change. He's -been so nice and neighbourly that I think he's deserved it. We won't -say nothing about it, and some fine day we'll surprise him by five -shinin' faces increasing his aujence." - -The idea of a picnic and a surprise facilitated the dressing, and -a half hour more saw the departure of the five Canarys in all the -splendour of cleanliness and handed-down clothes. Mrs. Canary, -standing in the doorway, viewed them with pride. - -"Now mind yerselves," was her parting instruction. "Ye look like a -little herd of white doves, and see that ye act so. Holly Belle, -don't forget to lend Mikey your handkerchief when necessary. And -conduct yerselves right during divine services." - -"There goes Miss Billy," she added to herself, as her own little -brood rounded the corner. "As chipper as a sparrer, an' a-carryin' -something to the needy, I should judge by that Haverland chiny dish -in her hand. Land o' love! She's turnin' into old man's Schultzsky's!" - - * * * * * - -A pudgy little maiden in a large rocking chair sat swinging back -and forth upon Mr. Schultzsky's dilapidated porch as Miss Billy -approached. The stolid Bohemian face was neutralised by the effect of -two blonde pig-tails, which were braided so tightly as to give her a -scared and hunted expression. She looked more frightened than ever as -the visitor ascended the rickety steps. - -"Good-morning!" said Miss Billy. - -The little girl stopped the motion of the chair and stared at the -newcomer. - -"This is a nice place to sit." - -The little girl's eyes grew rounder, but she made no reply. - -"Does Mr. Schultzsky live here?" went on Miss Billy. - -The child caught the familiar name, and nodded. - -"Is he in bed?" - -"Ja ne rozumim," said the little maid. - -"Do you suppose he would see me?" - -"Ja ne rozumim." - -"Goodness!" said Miss Billy to herself. "This is worse than taking -the census. I wonder what language the child is talking. I'm sure -it's not German or French or Latin or Greek. I might try her on -hog-latin. I never saw a child who couldn't understand that. -May--I--see--Mr.--Schultzsky?" she persisted in the loud and emphatic -way that one always uses with a foreigner. - -The little girl stared at her in a frightened way. - -"Mr. Schultzsky? In?" asked Miss Billy desperately. - -The child looked about her with a hunted and terrified expression. -Then she rose from her rocking chair, and backed hastily down the -steps, keeping a safe distance between herself and the caller. "Ja ne -rozumim," she gasped, and disappeared around the house. Miss Billy -turned to the door. She looked about for a bell, but finding none, -rapped upon the unpainted panel. There was no answer. A second knock -only brought an echo which reverberated through the shell of the -house. - -She hesitated a moment, and then stepping timidly inside, found -herself in a tiny box of a hallway which seemed to extend from the -front door to the back. Two doors opened into the hall and Miss Billy -paused irresolutely at one. A sound of heavy breathing came from -within, and she knocked lightly. - -"Come in," growled the voice of Mr. Schultzsky, and Miss Billy -entered. The inside of the house proved even more uninviting than -the outside. The room was small and low, with broken plastering, and -soiled hemp carpet on the floor. The only window was closed, and the -ragged green shade drawn tightly down. A musty odour, as of ancient -food and air, pervaded everything. - -On a narrow bed in the corner lay Mr. Schultzsky with a ragged -blanket drawn up over his head to exclude even the faint light. Over -the foot board dangled three flat irons at the end of a rope--an -improvised weight for the injured leg. Miss Billy caught her breath -at the sight. - -Mr. Schultzsky evidently heard the sigh. He threw his arms out -uneasily, but his head remained in eclipse. His muffled voice came -from beneath the blanket: - -"Chvatej, Johanna, Ja mam hlat." - -Miss Billy started to speak, but Mr. Schultzsky interrupted. - -"Get me something to eat. Quick," he ordered. - -The first sentence was unintelligible to Miss Billy, but the command -was clear. A wild plan of propitiating the old man seized her. She -turned to the hall without a word. - -The small room adjoining was evidently the kitchen, for a rusty stove -stood at one side, and a few shabby dishes were ranged in a cupboard -on the other. A half loaf of bread, a piece of salt pork, and a cup -partially filled with tea stood on a shelf. There was no other food -in sight. The fire had burned low, but Miss Billy poked the coals -together and added some fuel. - -"Ne davej vec nes jeden," called a muffled voice from the next room. - -"He's probably advising me to save on fuel," thought Miss Billy, -little guessing how nearly she had arrived at the truth. - -She filled the tea-kettle, set it over the blaze, cut a slice of -bread, and found a fork. The soup, which she had brought with her, -she poured into a tin pan and set on the stove to re-heat. Then she -looked about for serving utensils. There was no tray or napkin to be -seen, but she covered the bread board with the fringed doily that had -accompanied the soup. - -As she stepped lightly about her work her spirits rose higher than -they had since the news of the landlord's accident. She hugged to -herself the grim retribution she was receiving as she scorched her -face, as well as the bread, over the coals. - -"I can forgive myself, if he forgives me," she thought. - -There was no butter or milk in the cupboard, and the tableware seemed -to be in all stages of decrepitude. The Haviland bowl looked most -incongruous in company with the cracked cups and plates on the tray, -but Miss Billy was forced to be content. She covered the stove, -and turned the drafts in a way she felt sure Mr. Schultzsky would -approve, and then, leaving the improvised tray on the shelf, with -fear and trembling approached the door of the bedroom. The old man -seemed to be asleep. Fearful of disturbing him, Miss Billy stood -hesitating in the doorway. Then she cautiously opened the window, -and pulled up the shade a few inches. The light showed a dirty room -in a great state of disorder. On a chair beside the bed was an array -of bottles, dishes, and the remains of a meal. Old clothes were -strewn about the floor, dust lay in great rolls everywhere, and the -cobwebs under the bed had only been disturbed by the motley pile of -shoes and clothing which was thrust underneath. A broken harness was -suspended from a hook on one side of the room, and on the opposite -wall, crooked and high, hung the picture of a beautiful woman. - -Miss Billy went quietly to work to remedy things. She hung up the -clothes that littered the place, and arranged the medicine bottles. -Just as she was debating with herself as to the advisability of -rousing the invalid, the old man moved painfully. "Are you coming, -Johanna? Hurry up," he called from beneath the bed clothes. Miss -Billy made haste to obey. She brought the tray from the kitchen, and -quietly approached the bedside. Mr. Schultzsky lifted the blanket -from his face. He looked greyer and older than ever, his hair was -matted and towsled, and in the dim light he was a ghostly and -forbidding object. Even bold Miss Billy's hands shook as she helped -to raise him, and prop him a few inches higher with a pillow. As she -took up the tray again the old man glanced at her for the first -time. Instead of the stolid Bohemian face he had been expecting to -see, Miss Billy's sunny grey eyes, more tender and earnest than -usual, looked down into his stony grey ones. - -There was a moment's silence in the room. Then Mr. Schultzsky spoke: - -"Who are you?" he said. - -[Illustration: "Who are you?" he said.] - -"Don't you know?" answered the girl. "I'm Miss Billy--Wilhelmina -Lee--the girl at No. 12. I came to see if there was anything I could -do for you." - -"Huh," growled the man. The syllable seemed to be forced through his -set teeth. - -Miss Billy, trembling inwardly, went on bravely with her -recital:--"Don't you remember? You fell on our sidewalk. It was that -day when you wouldn't do anything about the repairs, and I went out -to try to mend it myself. And oh, Mr. Schultzsky, I said I hoped -you'd fall through the rotten planks! I was only half in earnest, you -know, but you _did_ come along and fall. And I feel as though it were -my fault. I'm so sorry--so very sorry." Her voice faltered. The old -man looked at her unwinkingly. - -"Go away," he said. - -"But you'll let me help you," entreated the girl, bringing the chair -nearer to the side of the bed. - -"Go away," repeated the old man. - -"I can't go away and leave you in this condition," pleaded Miss -Billy, bent on restitution. - -Mr. Schultzsky tried to raise himself from the pillow, but fell back -with a groan. He regarded her vindictively, and his face was more -sinister than ever as he repeated savagely--"Go away! Go away!" - -Miss Billy set down the tray on the chair and withdrew quickly. The -burning tears filled her eyes as she felt her way along to the gate. -"He was cruel," she said bitterly to herself. "I didn't deserve it." -A calmer mood took possession of her before she reached the door of -her home. "Well, he didn't strike me," she said stoutly. "And I know -I did my duty. But I shan't try to make friends with him again, and -I shall never never let Ted hear of this." - -But her brother's quick wits had already anticipated and made ready -for her home coming. As she flung off her hat, and threw herself into -the big chair in the study, the sermon board thrust a black and white -message before her eyes. It had been empty when she left the house. -Now it bore a rude sketch of a nondescript animal, a cross between -a bear and a wolf, arrayed in a huge night cap. An unmistakable -Little Red Riding Hood stood at the side of the beast. And below was -scrawled in Theodore's hand: - - Some bears have got two legs, - And some have got more; - Be lessons right severe, - If they've two legs or four! - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -HARD LINES - - "Though losses, and crosses, - Be lessons right severe--, - There's wit there, ye'll get there, - Ye'll find nae other where." - - -"BROWN'S sodas are the best in town, if they do come high,--and the -girls know it," Miss Billy had jeered a few weeks before. Theodore -repeated the words now with a wholly sober grimace, as he scrambled -into his clothes at half past six of an early July morning. Vacation -had brought him a permanent position in the drug store, at four -dollars a week, but the skeleton still walked. It was not a very -hideous skeleton, to be sure,--just a half dozen or so of remarkably -round and robust young misses,--but it had a prodigious appetite for -the confection known as ice-cream soda, and it never happened to have -any money of its own. - -Theodore, red in the face from the growing heat and his hurried -exertions, frowningly continued his unpleasant reflections. - -"There are two or three of those girls that have treated me -contemptibly of late,--probably because I no longer live in a -fourteen-room house. That Myrtle Blanchard is a notable example. She -scarcely takes the trouble to see me on the street, but she manages -to get around to the soda fountain every day, either alone, or with -the crowd of girls." - -He was lacing his shoes now, and another side of the subject -presented itself. - -"These are the shoes I vowed to buy with my own earnings, or go -without. Father bought them. I've learned to crow before my tail -feathers have grown enough to tell whether I'm going to be a Brahma -rooster or a Bantam hen. Well, I'm through cackling now: anyway, -till I get rid of those girls, and save some money. Then I'll have -something to cackle over." - -He swung down to breakfast, taking time to eat only his "bale of -hay"--the shredded wheat biscuit the faithful Maggie put before -him,--and hurried off to work. At the gate he encountered John Thomas -Hennesy, going his way, with a broken bridle in his hand. - -"Mornin'," said John Thomas cheerfully. - -"Good-morning," returned Theodore. "Going my way? Then you'll have to -keep up with my stride. I'm late this morning." - -"Workin' at Brown's steady now, ain't yer?" inquired John Thomas, -with friendly curiosity. "Much in it?" - -"Four dollars a week as a starter," said Theodore, firmly pressing -the skeleton back into its closet. "It's easy work, and they are -beginning to give me a little collecting and bookkeeping of late." - -John Thomas gave his companion a covert stare that took in the -neat blue serge suit and immaculate tie, the jaunty straw hat and -well-polished shoes. He noted that Theodore's eyes were grey like -Miss Billy's, and his teeth were white. Then he shoved his own stubby -hands into his pockets, and lapsed into silence. Grudgingly to -himself he admitted that Theodore was a "swell." He had soft hands, -and clean finger nails, and white teeth. He polished his shoes every -day, wore stand-up collars through the hot weather, and liked easy -jobs. - -John Thomas's chin squared itself into the bulldog pattern of his -father's, and his hands shut tight in his pockets. - -There was Miss Billy now. She and Theodore were as alike in looks as -two peas. But Miss Billy was no swell. Her teeth and nails were awful -clean, too,--but then, she was a girl,--and _she_ liked work. She'd -do anything,--even if she had clean hands, and finger nails, and---- - -John Thomas was measuring the length of his stubby legs with -Theodore's long swinging stride. "Driving team for your father, this -vacation, aren't you?" inquired Theodore, in turn. "Pretty hot in the -sun, isn't it?" - -"It's hot,--yes," admitted John Thomas, the bulldog chin slowly -melting under the friendly glance of the grey eyes,--"but its good -pay,--a dollar a day, and the day's work over at six o'clock." - -Theodore repressed a whistle. "Why, you'll save money, John Thomas, -if the job lasts all summer." - -"It'll last all summer, all right, and longer too. Father's got more -work than he can attend to. He's bought another team and he's going -to hire another man to drive it. I worked for father all last summer, -and I've got sixty dollars saved in the bank now. I'll make it a -hundred before school commences in September." - -It was Theodore, now, whose critical glance took in John Thomas,--a -sturdy square-set figure, with baggy trousers and rusty shoes, the -true Hennesy freckles and turned-up nose,--offset by keen blue eyes -and the resolute chin. "He's a man!" thought Theodore. "He's neither -afraid or ashamed of honest work,--and he saves his money, too. I -wonder what he'd do in my place now, if he had a crowd of girls to -treat every day with his hard earnings?" - -But it was difficult to imagine the figure at his side presiding -at a soda fountain, and handing out refreshment to a bevy of -young beauties, so Theodore gave it up with a sigh. John Thomas, -unpleasantly aware of the scrutiny, bore it unflinchingly, but his -chin squared itself again, and he thought, "He's a tenderfoot, that's -what he is. He never had dirty hands in his life. I guess he's -wonderin' who my tailor is." - -When Theodore reached the store he changed his coat for a linen one, -dusted the counters, lifted the ice into the soda fountain, and gave -all the glasses and spoons an extra polish. The recollection of -John Thomas lingered with him, together with the sixty dollars in -the bank which would be one hundred by September. "I'm in a false -position," he thought angrily. "I'm making those girls believe I have -all the money I want, and other people believe I'm an industrious and -deserving young man. I'd change jobs with John Thomas Hennesy in a -hurry if I could." - -The day was very warm, and by nine o'clock the soda water trade was -brisk. Myrtle Blanchard was one of the early callers. She was a miss -of fashion, like her older sisters, and aptly imitated their mincing -ways. - -"Oh, isn't it just too dreadfully warm?" she gasped, fanning herself -with her lace handkerchief and sinking onto one of the stools. "I -really couldn't have gone another step without resting, if I had been -paid for it." - -"It's hot," acquiesced Theodore, preparing a glass of orange -phosphate for another customer. "Mr. Brown," he called over to the -proprietor, who was sitting at the desk, "do you want me to collect -that bill I was told to call for this morning?" - -"Yes," answered Mr. Brown, "you'd better go right away. We've had to -wait long enough for that money. Frank, you take Theodore's place at -the fountain." - -Miss Myrtle's face assumed a look of hauteur. She was not accustomed -to being pushed aside, even for business. But she hastened to say, -"Oh, I am so warm! I believe I'll have a cherry phosphate. I came -away without my purse this morning, but please don't charge such a -small amount to papa." - -Theodore prepared the phosphate and placed it before her. His eyes -took on the steady, level expression that Miss Billy's habitually -wore, but his voice was cool and bland as he said aloud, "Frank, -please make a charge against Miss Myrtle Blanchard,--one phosphate, -ten cents." - -The other customers gazed in astonishment at this unheard of -publicity in entering a charge. Miss Myrtle turned from pink to -crimson, and slowly back to pink,--but she philosophically concluded -to drink her phosphate and think the matter out afterward. Theodore, -meantime, had taken his hat, and getting the bill and some change -from Mr. Brown, left the store. - -"The mean thing!" inwardly raged Miss Myrtle. "He meant that for a -snub,--I know he did. And he never so much as glanced at me as he -went out. Just wait! I'll get even with him." - -Out in the hot sunshine Theodore's other conscience was accusing him. -"It's a mean thing to use a girl that way! But if it has to be done, -I'm glad Myrtle Blanchard got it first. Yet it's all my own fault! If -I hadn't treated them at the first, they wouldn't have come to expect -it. But I feel as mean as a cur that's stolen another cur's bone." - -A walk of half a mile brought Theodore to a handsome house in a -fashionable street. He ascended the steps, touched the bell, and -heard a voice on the inside distinctly say, "If that's that boy from -Brown's, Nora, tell him I'm not at home." - -The door opened and a maid in a white cap glibly repeated the -message: "Mrs. Thorpe isn't at home this morning. Won't you call -again?" - -"She expects me this morning," said Theodore, firmly,--"so with your -permission, I'll wait." As he spoke, he entered and seated himself in -the reception hall. - -"She may not be home to luncheon," faltered the maid. "If you -could----" - -"My time is my own," interrupted Theodore. "Mrs. Thorpe expected me, -so I'll wait." - -There was a rustle of skirts above, and a whispered consultation. In -fifteen minutes' time Mrs. Thorpe descended the stairs, looking cool -and beautiful in a pale blue silken wrapper. - -"The maid was quite mistaken," she asserted sweetly. "I was taking a -little rest, and she thought I had gone out. Oh, yes,--you have that -bill. How troublesome for you to have had the long walk for so small -an amount! Fifteen dollars, is it? Please receipt the bill. And you -have change there! May I trouble you to change this five-dollar bill -for me, as well?" - -Theodore tucked the fifteen dollars, three crisp notes, into his -pocket, with satisfaction, and receipted the bill for the silken -lady. Then he counted out to her five dollars in change, and taking -his hat, bowed himself out. He was flushed with pride at having -outwitted the notorious Mrs. Thorpe. The other clerks at the store -had tried innumerable times to collect this bill. He hurried over -the hot pavements toward the store, the success of this undertaking -driving Myrtle Blanchard and the other girls, for the time, from his -mind. - -Mr. Brown was still at the desk when he reached the store. He handed -in the three bills with conscious triumph. "And the five dollars in -change, I gave you?" suggested Mr. Brown pleasantly. - -"Oh, I exchanged that for----" he stopped suddenly, with a startled -air. He had given Mrs. Thorpe the five dollars in silver, but she -had given him no bill in return. He remembered now, distinctly. He -was perfectly sure. - -"You may have lost it," corrected Mr. Brown gravely. "You must be -careful not to attribute its loss to Mrs. Thorpe. She is one of our -wealthiest customers. However, you may go back and inquire." - -Mrs. Thorpe rustled down at Theodore's second summons. Certainly, she -had given him the bill! He had probably lost it on the street. Then -she rustled upstairs again, and Nora, the maid, showed him out. - -The brick buildings that radiated the heat, and the dusty streets -with their clanging cars, swam before his tired and angry eyes. "A -woman that would lie, might steal," he reflected fiercely. "Mrs. -Thorpe has that five-dollar bill, together with the change I gave -her, in her purse!" - -He took his way back, in helpless anger and misery, to the store, and -reported once more at the desk. - -"No," said Mr. Brown. "I didn't think Mrs. Thorpe had it. You must be -extremely careful what you say. You have either carelessly lost it, -or----" - -"Or what?" demanded Theodore angrily. - -Mr. Brown flushed in return. "I have noticed since you have been in -my employ," he said coldly, "that you have extravagant habits, as -well as extravagant friends. It is the shortest road to dishonesty, -although I make no accusations. Of course you will make this loss -good. Is there any money coming to you?" - -"Very little. What was coming to me I drew Saturday night," said -Theodore, the colour all gone from his face. "Mr. Brown, you are -doing me an injustice. I _was_ extremely careless. It is right that -I should return the money because of that carelessness. But I am -honest, and I have been taught to be truthful. I beg you to believe -me when I say that the money is, knowingly or unknowingly, with Mrs. -Thorpe. I distinctly remember that she did not give me the bill." - -Mr. Brown's voice was like ice: "I do not wish to have any more -discussion of the matter. The money will be charged to your father -until you repay its loss. You may go to dinner." - -Mr. Hennesy and John Thomas, seated on a little hillock of dirt, -were eating their dinner from a bountifully filled dinner pail, when -a noontide visitor strode in upon them. The horses looked mildly up -from their improvised feed boxes upon Theodore, who, reckless of -the polished shoes and blue serge suit, seated himself upon another -hillock in their midst. - -"Mr. Hennesy," he said, coming straight to the point, "have you hired -a man yet, to drive that new team you've bought?" - -"Well," said Mr. Hennesy warily, and confining his gaze to a generous -crescent his teeth had described in a quarter of an apple pie, -"there's a red-headed man that's been afther the job, an' there's -another that's as bald as an acorn----" - -"If you'll give it to me," broke in Theodore, "I'll do my best -to please you, and I'll work cheaper than a man. I have handled -horses before. Try me for a week, Mr. Hennesy, and if I don't give -satisfaction you needn't pay me a cent, and there will be no hard -feeling." - -Mr. Hennesy's first shock of surprise expanded slowly into a grin. -John Thomas's eyes were like saucers. - -"Why-ee--" gurgled Mr. Hennesy, "ye'd burn the shkin all off av yer -nose, an' tan yer neck, an' blishter yer han's so yer own mother -wouldn't be afther knowin' ye. Ye couldn't niver----" - -"Come now, Mr. Hennesy," said Theodore, rising abruptly, "if I look -like a fool, I assure you I'm not one. Will you give me the chance?" - -Mr. Hennesy's grin vanished, and his chin squared. - -"Thot I will!" he said, extending his hand cordially. "Ye can go to -work in the mornin'. But moind me,--ye'll do yer full dhuty, or -ye'll git fired!" - -Theodore was gone, as suddenly as he had come, and John Thomas still -sat, the picture of helpless surprise. - -"Well--I'll--be blowed!" he ejaculated, at last. "I wouldn't have -thought it of him. He looked too good to spoil his hands. Somethin' -must have gone wrong at the drug store." - -"Which same ye'll not be mintionin' to him, John Thomas," said Mr. -Hennesy, with the true instincts of a gentleman. - -"As if I would!" returned John Thomas scornfully. - -Dinner was over, and Miss Billy was out weeding the pansy bed when -her brother reached home. The long walk from the outskirts of the -town where Mr. Hennesy was working, and the noontide heat of the -day, had failed to bring the colour back to his pale face. He seemed -to have grown taller, and older, in a single morning. Miss Billy, -looking up from her flowers, instantly read the trouble in his face, -and sprang to her feet. - -"Wilhelmina," he said, putting his hand on her shoulder and looking -down into her face (it was the first time in his life he had called -her that), "I've got to borrow your Christmas gold piece. I never -thought I'd come down so low, but,--well, I have! I'm in trouble, and -I've got to have it to square myself." - -"Is that all?" cried Miss Billy, brightening. "It can't be a very -great trouble that that paltry gold piece can drive away. And I'm so -glad to let you have it, Ted." - -"No,--that's not all," went on Theodore, in a hard voice. "Mr. Brown -thinks I'm a sneak, if not a thief!--and I've quit my job. Don't tell -father and mother,--not yet, I mean." - -"Theodore!" There was anguish in Miss Billy's tones that brought the -tears for the first time to Theodore's eyes. - -"But I've hired out to Mr. Hennesy to drive a team, and start to work -in the morning." - -"Brother, you _can't_ do that!" Miss Billy, in spite of herself, was -crying now. - -"Do you remember," said Theodore, "we were reading the other day that -a man is as great--not as his father's money, or his grandfather's -name, but as the force within himself? Miss Billy, I have force -enough to drive Mr. Hennesy's team, and stick to it! Inasmuch as -that, I am a man." - -Miss Billy looked up, overawed. Laziness, heedlessness, vanity, had -dropped away as a mantle, and from the steady grey eyes looked the -serious spirit of a man. - -Like a rainbow of promise, Miss Billy smiled through her tears. -"Theodore Lee," she said, wiping the last drop off her nose, -"Theodore Lee, I'm proud of you!" - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -TWO LETTERS - - "Princess, to you the western breeze - Bears many a ship and heavy laden; - What is the best we send in these? - A free and frank young Yankee maiden." - - - "COLOGNE, GERMANY. - - "_Dear Miss Billikins_: - - "Prepare to clap your hands and chortle with joy! In six - weeks and two days more I shall be at home with you! - Perhaps I am a trifle conceited to think that you will be - as delighted over the prospect as I am. - - "Even my grief at leaving my beloved Germany is drowned in - joy at the thought of being home again; and when I see papa - and mamma's dear faces I shall be the happiest girl this - side of the Atlantic. After all, there is no place like - America, and no people like the Americans. - - "In proof of which, I can a tale unfold--a tale, Miss - Billy, which will make your blood stand on end and your - hair run cold in your veins. I have had an adventure that - brought the tears of shame and contrition to my eyes, and - which will bring the tears of sympathy to yours. Get out - your largest and most absorbent handkerchief and prepare to - listen. - - "It rained yesterday,--not one of the mild English - drizzles, but a regular American downpour that lasted all - day. About four o'clock I put my music aside and went - downstairs, with the intention of taking a stroll, or more - literally, a swim. Frau Henich held up her hands in holy - horror at the sight of my costume, which was a combination - of bathing suit and bicycle skirt. - - "Will the bold Fräulein venture out in such wetness? - - "The bold Fräulein would. - - "Did she not fear the dampness? - - "The Fräulein adored dampness. - - "Was there no message that could be sent? - - "The Fräulein had no message. She was going out for her - pleasure. - - "Frau Henich looked at me in pity and amazement. Generally - she considers me erratic, but on occasions of this sort - she knows I am unbalanced. As I closed the door I could - feel that she was still wondering in which branch of my - family insanity was rampant. Now there is a certain tiny - store in Cologne which I intend to buy out some day. It - is a most fascinating place, with the windows full of gay - knit garters, and hideous pictures of the saints, and dried - herrings, and with funny little reward-of-merit-cards and - work-boxes tucked away in dark corners. - - "Of course none of these things are exactly in my line, but - the mistress of the house sells a delicious little German - cake that is my especial delight. Whenever my music lessons - go badly or I fail to get a letter from home, I comfort - myself with a bag of these little 'pfeffernes.' - - "On this rainy day the shop was even more inviting than - usual. It was brightly lighted with three candles, a big - pussy cat was purring on the mat, and there was an odour - of hot gingerbread in the air. My long walk had made me - hungry, and I recklessly ordered two dozen cakes, a square - of the frosted gingerbread, and a little pail of sauerkraut - which tasted and smelled very German indeed. It was dark - outside, so I didn't stay to practise my German on the - rosy-faced woman behind the counter, but took my bundles - hurriedly. I paddled out, leaving a long stream of green - water in my wake--(the colour in my green umbrella has - 'run' as you predicted)--and faced the storm. - - "The long narrow street was deserted, and I sprinted along - making good time, though my feet were soaking wet and I - could feel the water gurgle in my shoes at every step. As - I started across a muddy street within two blocks of Frau - Henich's, a sudden gust of wind blew my umbrella inside - out. I righted it by facing about and holding it against - the wind. Then clutching my bundles a little tighter, and - still treading determinedly backwards, I bumped forcibly - into a man who was coming towards me. The result was what - might have been expected. We sat down in the street. The - gingerbread went into his lap, the cakes fell about me - like stars from a rocket, and from what I could see in the - dusk the kraut seemed to be equally divided between us. We - both sat perfectly still for a moment. Then six feet of - masculinity arose from the mud, with the sound of a suction - pump, and approached me, with the air of a count. 'Are you - hurt, Fräulein?' he inquired, in irreproachable German that - made me green with envy. I felt of myself in the cleanest - places and decided that I was not. He helped me up with - difficulty, for the mud had a strong attraction for me, - too, and I feebly began to collect my thoughts, and my - cakes, and to look about for my umbrella. - - "By this time my companion in misery had a beautiful - un-German-like apology ready for me, and proposed that we - move on, and repair damages by the street lamp. I replied, - in very bad German, that my boarding-place was just around - the corner, and that I would prefer to remove the signs - of our collision at home. He graciously acceded to my - humble request, and crossed the street with me, holding the - remains of my umbrella over my head. When we reached the - lamp I could fully appreciate the humour of the situation. - The aristocratic chest of the Count was plastered with - white frosting, his hat was caved in, and his noble face - was covered with spatters of mud. My skirt dripped mud - and water at each step, my hands were gloved with honest - German soil, and my hair fell over my face in degraded - little stringlets. We both fairly reeked with kraut. But - the Count, courteously oblivious to our picturesque and - barbaric appearance, walked by my side, with that skeleton - of an umbrella gallantly protecting the remains of my Knox - hat, and discoursing cheerfully upon the vagaries of the - German climate. Naturally my answers were not so teeming - with wisdom as usual, for I was fairly overcome with - suppressed emotion and mud. Beside, I am awfully stupid - about languages, and all the German I have learned since - I have been here would rattle if it were shaken about in - a peanut shell. If he had asked me about the lamb of the - daughter of the gardener, or the pink frock of my sister's - child, I could have conversed fluently; but as it was I - maintained a dignified silence and let him think that I was - a modest little German Mädchen. - - "His good manners lasted the whole two blocks, and he - handed me in at Frau Henich's door with the air of King - Cophetua, though I did think I caught a twinkle of fun in - his eyes as he said 'Gute Nacht, Fräulein. Es ist immer der - Amerikaner der die deutschen Länder bekommt.' - - "Fräulein Henich has much to say of the gracious Herr, who - came to my rescue so nobly. It seems after all that he is - no count, just an American student, as she expresses it - touring Germany,--'but so amiable in manner, so hard in the - working, and so good to the children.' He boards across the - street with her good friend Frau Heller, and I have often - seen a young man, answering to his description, frolicking - with the six flaxen-headed Heller cherubs. But, to me he - will always be known as the Count. My introduction to him - is also my farewell, for he leaves to-morrow--whither I - know not--and alas, I shall see him no more! Still, he has - served his purpose in furnishing me with many a recent - chuckle, and material for what otherwise would have been a - most stupid letter to you. Musical students never have any - brains left for letters, and nothing to write about. Maybe - I won't have enough things to _tell_ you about, my dear, in - six weeks and two days more! - - "Lots of love from - - "PEGGY." - -Miss Billy laid down the closely written sheets of foreign paper, and -drew a long sigh of pleasure. Six weeks more! - -Perhaps no one knew just what the end of the six weeks meant to -Miss Billy. Even the cheeriest and happiest of us all have our dark -days, and the fact that our friends do not suspect them, makes the -days none the less hard to bear. Miss Billy's interest in her new -surroundings, and her bravery in her changed circumstances had not -prevented many a heart-ache and longing for the old life. Girls are -merciless aristocrats, and many of Miss Billy's old friends had -wounded her with careless speeches, or rude actions, since the old -life had ended. The covert sneers, the uplifted eyebrows, the small -snubs that so often crushed Beatrice in these days of stern economy, -had touched Miss Billy's sensitive soul; and though she was brave -enough to rise above them, they were not easy to bear. - -But after Margaret came,--dear loyal Peggy, so leal and true--whom -changed circumstances only made nearer and dearer,--Miss Billy felt -that she could face the world and "the girls" with courage, as well -as independence, and she yearned for her friend with all the strength -of her young soul. - -And on the heels of this joyful letter came another delightful -surprise. It was an overture of peace, and the carrier dove was Aaron -Levi. The olive branch he bore was a message to the effect that "ol' -man Schultzsky" wanted to see Miss Billy "to wunst." "What can he -want of me?" thought the girl, hurrying out of the door in a state of -high excitement. "It must be that he wants something done; if that's -the case, perhaps he's not so awfully mad at me, after all." - -She crossed the street, and went quickly up to Mr. Schultzsky's door. -The little Bohemian maid, who was rocking on the front porch, rose -up uncertainly and fled around the house at her approach. Miss Billy -entered without the ceremony of rapping, and made her way to the room -in which she had found Mr. Schultzsky before. - -In appearance it was the same dark mildewed room of two weeks before, -with the harness on the wall, and the picture of the beautiful woman -hanging crookedly near the ceiling. In the half gloom she saw the -old man still stretched on the hard bed with the weight of flatirons -attached to his foot. His face in its gauntness and pallor showed the -suffering he had endured; but the sunken eyes were bright, and he -displayed his eagerness in the gesture with which he motioned her to -the chair by his side. - -"I vant you to write a letter," he began in a weak voice. "It comes -to me in the night if I haf no one to do for me I vill not soon get -vell. Johanna is a child. She can speak not the English; she can -order not the food. She can do nothing but rock herself in the chair -and cry. Open the drawer in the table, and take the paper and ink. It -is to my niece's oldest child--the letter." - -Not without trembling, because of her proximity to the strange old -man, Miss Billy obeyed. - -"I am ready, Mr. Schultzsky," she announced. - -The old man fell to pondering. - - "To Frances Lindsay, my niece's child," he began at last. - "I am in much trouble that my leg is broke and I cannot - mofe. It is such warm weather, and such pain, I cannot get - well unless you come by me. - - "I will pay it when you come, which you should do right - away. - - "Your affectionate uncle, - - "ABRAHAM SCHULTZSKY." - -"Is that all?" asked Miss Billy, as the dictation ceased. - -"Yes," said the old man wearily. "The street number is on a piece of -paper in the drawer. That's right." He closed his eyes, but turned -slightly as Miss Billy rose to go, and held out his hand. "You are a -smart girl," he said. "I thank you for what you haf done for me." - -Miss Billy gave his hand a little squeeze in her excitement. "I've -been so sorry, Mr. Schultzsky," she said softly. "Can you ever, ever -forgive me?" - -"It is nodding," responded Mr. Schultzsky shortly. "Goot-day." - -Miss Billy, thus dismissed, sped home as one whose feet were shod -with wings. - - "All is forgiven, - Blest be my soul," - -she hummed to herself as she made her way to the mail box. "I'm as -happy as a lark. Margaret's coming home, and Mr. Schultzsky has -forgiven me. It's too much good luck for one day." She smiled happily -as she dropped into the box the letter addressed to - - "Miss Frances Lindsay, - "886 East Forty-fifth Street, - "New York." - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -"FRANCES" - - "There were three ladies in a hall,-- - With a heigh-ho and a lily gay: - There came a lord among them all,-- - As the primrose spreads so sweetly." - - -IT was hot, very hot, in Cherry Street. Miss Billy's garden bloomed -as Paradise, but up and down the alley household garbage bubbled and -boiled in the sun. The sweet peas on the fence were a marvellous -cloud of pink, violet, crimson, purple and white. They rioted over -the Hennesy pickets, and spread their fairy wings as if to descend -on the other side;--but across the street Mr. Schultzsky's weeds -flaunted in all the rank arrogance of a second crop. - -Miss Billy was disheartened, but not defeated. "Of course I can't -accomplish it all by myself," she thought, "and John Thomas is too -tired at night to help and Theodore is working, too. But every child -in the street that can handle a hoe shall be enlisted in the cause if -I can accomplish it." - -She went over to Mrs. Canary's to talk the matter over, and found -Holly Belle in a kitchen that easily registered 110 degrees. Mrs. -Canary was in bed with one of her "attacks," the twins, unwashed and -sticky, were playing with a basket of potatoes on the floor: Ginevra, -the little sister, was grumblingly washing the breakfast dishes, -while Holly Belle, with signs of recent tears around her eyelashes, -was binding up a badly burned arm. - -"You see, there's bread-baking to-day," she said, as Miss Billy's -deft fingers bound up the burn, "and maw's sick, and paw goes onto -his beat at noon, and must have his dinner, and the twins are -restless with the heat, and won't stay satisfied five minutes at -a time with anything. The boys are off somewhere, and no good to -anybody, and my own head aches so I can't hardly see. It aches all -the time, now, anyway." - -"I should think it would," said Miss Billy sympathetically. "Can't -you let that fire go out? It's simply unbearable in here." - -"No," said Holly Belle, "the bread's in the oven, an' there's pork -an' cabbage cooking. I've got to get the potatoes peeled right away, -or dinner'll be late." - -Miss Billy reached for a kitchen apron that hung on a nail. "Well, -I'll bathe the babies," she said: "I think that will make them feel -better. Then I'll sweep up for you, and help with the dinner." - -"You're awful good," said Holly Belle simply. Her eyes looked heavy, -and her shoulders had a pathetic droop. "Jinny, if yer through with -the dishpan, give it to Miss Billy to wash the twins in, and then go -down to the store and fetch a pound of butter." - -Miss Billy bathed the babies in a tiny pantry, away from the -scorching blast of the cook stove, and clad them in clean, dark -calico slips. Ginevra came with the butter, and was despatched with -the twins in their carriage to the shady north side of the Lee house. -Order slowly evolved from chaos. The kitchen was swept, the pantry -put to rights, and Miss Billy, crimson in the face, and with her -collar quite wilted, was preparing to set the table. - -"Don't you think--Holly Belle," she suggested, "that it might be -better to move the table into the other room? It's much cooler in -there." - -"We never have," answered Holly Belle dubiously. "We've always eat in -the kitchen." - -"Well, we'll try it this time, anyway,--and if your mother objects -we'll not do it again. It's so hot in here, Holly Belle, it's -positively dangerous! And as you can't take the stove out, it seems -as though you would have to take yourselves out, that's all." - -"I've been thinking," she went on, as she went back and forth from -the table to the pantry, "that instead of having the children in -the neighbourhood spend every Saturday morning with me, as they have -been doing, I shall have them come every morning for two hours. That -would help you, wouldn't it, Holly Belle? And I can just as well do -it through the vacation. You could send the babies before nine, and -I'd bathe them and be ready for the rest at nine o'clock. - -"This child-garden, Holly Belle, is going to resolve itself into an -Improvement Club. Every member who is old enough must pledge himself -to one half-hour's service a day in keeping clean his own yard and -alley, and the street in front of his house. The weeds must be kept -down, the cesspools disinfected, and the garbage disposed of. Then -another half hour might be pledged to household duties,--such as -washing and wiping dishes, bringing in wood, carrying water, and -making beds. They'll all subscribe to the conditions, I know, for the -sake of sharing in the pleasures of the child-garden." - -"Launkelot and Fridoline couldn't never wash and wipe dishes," said -Holly Belle hopelessly. "They'd break them all up." - -"Indeed they can, if they try," returned Miss Billy stoutly. "My -brother Theodore can wash and wipe dishes as deftly as a girl,--and -he could do it at their age, too." - -"'Twould be an awful help," mused Holly Belle, "and our yard an' -alley is a sight to behold, but I ain't got no time to clean it." - -"Of course you haven't. But you are doing noble work in this kitchen -every day,--and taking care of those babies beside. It's noble work, -Holly Belle." - -Holly Belle's lips quivered, and her tears fell. "I ain't like -other girls," she sobbed. "I used to go to bed of nights an' dream -I had a piano an' could play on it. An' when I'd wake up I'd be so -disappointed it seemed to me I couldn't stand it. An' I used to go on -hopin' and hopin' that I'd get one, an' learn, but I know it's too -late now. I'm growin' on fourteen, already." - -Miss Billy, taking in all the pathos of the starved little life, -found no words to reply. "But the thing that hurts worst," went on -Holly Belle, wiping her tears on her apron, "is that I can't go to -school. I had to stop when Mikey was a baby, and then just as I got -started again the twins came, and I guess I'll never go back. The -teacher came to see maw, an' told her how quick I learned,--but it -didn't do no good, an' I'll have to stay right here in this kitchen -all the rest of my life." - -Miss Billy crossed over to the drooping little figure, and put her -arm about her. "Keep hoping, Holly Belle," she counselled: "Keep -hoping, and keep on trying. I'm sure it will all come out right. -I have a solemn conviction that when one wishes hard enough for a -thing, it comes to pass. And so I am sure the school days will come -again, and the piano and the lessons, too." - -Holly Belle dried her tears. "You've made me feel almost sure of it, -too," she said, with a smile. "I'm thankful for the help you've been -to me with the work, Miss Billy,--and I'll send the children over in -the morning." - - * * * * * - -It was that evening that Theodore, freshly arrayed in the glory -of blue serge and starched linen, drew Miss Billy into a secluded -corner. His neck, even as Mr. Hennesy had predicted, was burned to a -deep red, and the blisters on his hands were hardening into calloused -spots,--but there was no self pity in his manner as he handed his -sister a five dollar gold piece. - -"My first week's pay," he announced, proudly: "and thank you very -much for the accommodation." - -"Oh, I'd rather not take it now, Ted," demurred Miss Billy. "Wait -until you've earned more." - -"No indeed," said Theodore proudly. "Next week I shall pay father for -my shoes, and after that, every cent of my money goes into the bank. -Take it now, or never, Miss Billy." - -"Well, I'll take it if I must, but I don't want to," grumbled his -sister. "Say Ted, Beatrice and I are going over to call on Mr. -Schultzsky's niece, Frances Lindsay, this evening. Mother saw her -trunk arrive to-day, and thought we ought to. Won't you go with us?" - -"No, I thank you," said Theodore. "To tell the truth, I've soured on -the society of ladies. But if she's handsome, and wealthy, and under -thirty, I may relent and call upon her some other evening." - -"For my part, I think the idea of our going over there is -ridiculous," scolded Beatrice. "I wouldn't, if mother didn't insist -upon it. It's more than likely she can speak only Bohemian, as that -other little niece does, and will run and hide upon our arrival." - -"Well, we'll go, anyway," said Miss Billy. "Mother is right. The girl -will feel very strange and lonely in that old house, and if she can't -speak English we can at least shake hands and then sit and smile at -her." - -They took their way across the street, Beatrice very dainty in her -white dress with a rose low in her hair,--Miss Billy in a black -dress skirt and white shirt-waist, with a severely masculine collar -and tie. The front door stood ajar, and after tapping several times -Miss Billy ushered herself in. "It's the only way," she declared, in -reply to Beatrice's horrified exclamation. "Mr. Schultzsky _can't_ -let us in, that little Bohemian girl _won't_ let us in, and under the -circumstances, I suppose the new niece can't make up her mind what to -do." - -There was the sound of a well-modulated masculine voice reading in -Mr. Schultzsky's room. Miss Billy tapped gently, and the door was -opened by a young man. In one swift glance she knew he was tall, with -dark eyes and a ruddy skin, and wore glasses. - -"I beg your pardon," she faltered. "We have called to inquire for Mr. -Schultzsky, and to call upon his niece, Miss Frances Lindsay." - -In the next instant, too, she was sure the young man was well bred. -He gave Beatrice a chair, and turned on the student lamp without -manifesting any embarrassment, while Miss Billy crossed to the old -man's bedside, and extended her hand. - -"I hope you are better, Mr. Schultzsky," she said. "Sister Beatrice -and I have come to call upon----" For some undefined reason the words -died away, and she stood with glowing cheeks and paralysed tongue. - -"Sit down," said Mr. Schultzsky, pointing to a chair at the bedside. -The young man was regarding Miss Billy with open humour shining in -his dark eyes. - -"I feel already acquainted with you, Miss Lee," he said, "as a good -friend of my uncle's, and as a young lady who insists upon spelling -my name 'ces.' _I_ am Francis Lindsay!" - -He was looking at Beatrice now, whose face was the picture of shocked -propriety and haughtiness. Miss Billy's wits returned. - -"It would be very funny," she thought, "if Bea didn't take it so -tragically. But he is not at all to blame. He has tact, and is -kind. _I_ am the stupid one." Then she introduced Beatrice with a -mischievous ring in her voice. "My sister Beatrice,--_Mr._ Francis -Lindsay." - -Mr. Schultzsky was feebly wagging his head and chuckling. "She iss a -smart girl," he said,--"but she wass fooled dot time." - -With a person less polished, the situation might have been deeply -embarrassing,--but Mr. Schultzsky's great-nephew conversed -entertainingly, with his arm resting easily on the table. He spoke -of his native city of New York, of existing social relations, of -his uncle's illness. He addressed his remarks to Miss Billy, but he -glanced often at Beatrice, who sat cold and silent across the room. - -"I trust you will give me permission to return the call," he said -pleasantly, as at the end of ten minutes they rose to go. "I assure -you I know what it is to be lonely, though I am not a girl." - -"Do come," said Miss Billy cordially,--but Beatrice remained silent. - -"Now with your usual propensity for doing stupid things, you have -drawn us into a fine entanglement," scolded Beatrice, as they -reached the sidewalk. "I never heard of anything so arrogant in my -life as his asking if he might return the call. And it was not your -place to give him permission, either. You quite forget you are my -younger sister." - -"I think him extremely courteous and high-bred," returned Miss Billy -with spirit, "and his asking to call upon us was a delicate and kind -thing to do, under the circumstances. But don't let us quarrel about -him, Bea. How old do you suppose he is? I think he can't be over -twenty-one,--but his grave manners make him appear older." - -"I have no suppositions whatever upon such a subject," said Beatrice -loftily. - -"But at least, you cannot deny he is a gentleman?" - -Beatrice raised her pretty eyebrows. "Into that I shall not inquire. -It is enough for me that he is a relative of Mr. Schultzsky's." - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -THE CHILD GARDEN - - "As I went up Pippin Hill - Pippin Hill was dirty." - - -"NO, I will not," said Beatrice decidedly. - -"But the children will be so disappointed. They will have their -reports all ready, and there will be almost no one here to hear them. -Neither mother nor father can be present. And the little ones are so -fond of you." - -Even this mixture of pathos and diplomacy failed to touch Bea's -flinty heart. "I don't wish to be here," she replied. - -"But you said last night you would." - -"That was before I knew you were going to invite every Tom, Dick and -Harry in the neighbourhood." - -Miss Billy was roused immediately. "I suppose by that you mean Mr. -Francis Lindsay," she said with spirit; "I invited him here on -purpose. I want to be especially nice to him just because you were so -mean and sniffy to him the night of our call. That was my blunder, -and you needn't empty the vials of your wrath on him. He was as -gentlemanly and pleasant as he could be, and did his very best to -make us forget that we were two girls calling upon a boy. Besides, he -is interested in this kind of work--he told me so himself. And the -children all adore him,--and mother said I might." - -The speaker paused, breathless. - -"It is none of my affair whom you choose to invite to the house," -said Beatrice coldly. "But I prefer not to see him." - -"All right, don't, then," retorted Miss Billy wrathfully. "I'll ask -Marie Jean, instead. She'll be glad to come, I guess. But I don't -understand you at all, Bea. It isn't like you to be so petty and -small." - -Beatrice walked away without another word, and Miss Billy marched -defiantly to the Hennesy fence, and vaulted lightly over. It was -wicked of Miss Billy, for she knew that this tomboyish expression of -independence would be most irritating to Beatrice. - -Marie Jean Hennesy, sitting with her embroidery on the back porch, -looked amazed at the breathless apparition which appeared over the -fence. - -"You're the very one I wanted to see," said Miss Billy. "The Street -Improvement Club is going to meet in our yard this morning, and the -children are going to read reports of what they have accomplished. -I'm sure you'd be interested, and I do wish you'd come and hear them." - -Marie Jean was not so enthusiastic. "I don't know," she said -doubtfully. "I was intending to finish this work to-day." - -"I do wish you'd come," urged Miss Billy. "There will be no one there -besides the children, except Mr. Lindsay,--the young man staying at -Mr. Schultzsky's. I think you'd enjoy it." - -Marie Jean folded her linen slowly. "Maybe I'll come," she decided, -"if I can get my dress changed in time." - -"Don't stop to fix up," cautioned Miss Billy. "Come as soon as you -can." - -"You'd betther be makin' haste, Mary Jane," called Mrs. Hennesy from -the foot of the stairs ten minutes later. "I seen the children go -trapesing into Miss Billy's a minute ago, an' I guess maybe they're -waitin' on you." - -Marie Jean deigned no reply. She tipped her mirror at a more -satisfactory angle, as she applied Mde. Juneau's Bloom of Youth to -her freckled nose, and gave a sigh of satisfaction at the result. -Then she surveyed the vision before her with a pleased smile. A -dream in blue smiled back at her from the glass,--a dream in a -striking costume of brilliant blue foulard, with pointed neck and -elbow sleeves. A faded blue hat was perched sideways upon the heavy -reddish hair, and a pair of long silk mitts in another shade of blue -completed the attire. - -Marie Jean pursed up her lips to produce an elongated dimple in one -cheek. "If I could only remember to do that every once in a while!" -she said to herself. From the hush that pervaded the hall below Marie -Jean suspected that her mother, with her nose pressed tightly against -the window pane, was assuring herself as to the condition of affairs -in the next yard. Her suspicions were confirmed by the call that -followed: - -"Young Mr. Lindsay has came now, Mary Jane. He's all in white, close, -hat, shoes an' all. Sure ol' man Schultzsky'll be worryin' about his -laundry bills. They're all a sittin' round on the grass with him an' -Miss Billy. You'd best make haste." - -This had the desired effect. There was a hurried moving about in -the room upstairs, and two minutes later the daughter of the family -appeared, fluffing her frizzes to their widest extent, and giving a -final hitch to her openwork stockings. - -"Whose sun shade is that yer afther carryin'?" asked the mother. - -"It's one I borrowed from Lily Corcoran to match my suit," answered -Marie Jean cautiously. "Don't be lettin' the neighbours know about -it, either." - -Mrs. Hennesy withered beneath the reproof. "Of course I'll not spake -of it," she said. "It was a slipsy of the tongue, Mary Jane." - -Her daughter accepted the apology in the spirit in which it was -given, for her time was too limited for haughtiness. "All right," she -said condescendingly, as she hurried down the walk. - -There was a commotion in the Lee yard as the vision in blue appeared -around the corner of the house. Marie Jean in her usual clothes was -not to be lightly regarded, but in this new and startling costume the -effect was electrifying to the spectators. Little Aaron Levi, who -was holding the floor, became suddenly affected with stage fright, -and the small Canarys stared open mouthed. Fridoline alone arose to -the emergency and inquired in a loud and interested tone, "Hallo, -Mary Jane. Where'd you get that hat?" - -Miss Billy hurried forward to greet her guest. - -"We were afraid you were not coming," she said cordially, "so we went -on with our reports. Won't you sit down." She cast a rueful look at -the gay costume. "I'm afraid you won't dare to sit on the grass with -the rest of us. Let's begin over again, Aaron." - -Marie Jean took the garden chair that Francis offered and smiled -sweetly at him, not forgetting to exhibit the elongated dimple; -Miss Billy settled back on the grass; and Aaron Levi took up his -half-finished sentence. - -It was the first meeting of the Civic Improvement Department of -the Child Garden. The Street Improvement Club, as they had chosen -to call themselves, had been successfully organised and valiantly -living up to their motto of "Be clean and keep clean." The life of a -missionary is never easy, and Cherry Street had made it particularly -hard for the little band of workers who fought so bravely against the -dirt, disorder and disease in their surroundings. It would have been -hopeless to try to interest the older people, but the children were -all enthusiastic little citizens, and their interest in the work had -won over many of the fathers and mothers who had opposed the idea of -cleanliness as "putting on airs." Already the street had begun to -show improvement, and the reports of the children plainly told under -what difficulties some of the sturdy members had worked. - -Aaron Levi, with a long sheet of soiled foolscap, which effectually -concealed a large portion of his anatomy, read the first report in -loud and distinct tones: - - "As I belong to the Street Cleaning Club I would like to - tell a thing or more what happened last week. I told Joe - to pick up some paper which was lying in the street. If - he wouldn't pick it up I would. I was just going to see - what he says, so finally, he wasn't going to pick it up, - and he said he wasn't going to pick dirty papers up from - the streets, and that wasn't even all, he also littered the - streets. He also stated that there was not a law passed - forbidding people to throw papers on the street. - - "The place where I live, which is not large, there is very - seldom a piece of paper or anything else. Hoping that other - places may be in the same condition. This can be easily - done if people and children help together. - - "Yours truly, - - "AARON LEVI." - -"Very good," said Miss Billy heartily, as Aaron, flushed with emotion -and heat, took his place on the grass. "Aaron, I'm proud of you. If -we all do work of that kind there won't be need for our club always. -Ginevra, have you something to read to us?" - -Ginevra twisted her apron about in her small brown hands. - -"I didn't write mine," she murmured faintly. "It's only about an -orange peel, anyway." - -"Can't you tell us, then?" encouraged Miss Billy. - -"There was a man goin' up Cherry Street last night, an' he was eatin' -a orange, an' droppin' the peelin' right on the sidewalk. An' I said -to him 'Mister, please don't drop those on the walk.' And he didn't -pay no attention to me, an' so I walked along behind him an' just -picked them up myself." - -Ginevra's patient little story was most touching, and Miss Billy and -Francis exchanged quick glances of sympathy. Marie Jean settled the -folds of her gown, and smiled. "How perfectly lovely," she remarked -to no one in particular. - -"Isn't it interesting?" asked Miss Billy proudly. "Frank Murphy, you -come next. What have you done?" - -Frank's report was brief and to the point. "There was a dead rat out -in the street. It was big and smelt awful. I poked it with a stick, -but it was so smelly I couldn't take it in my hands. So I brought the -cat out and she et it up." - -The fastidious sense of Marie Jean was much offended by the story, -but she bravely accepted the custom of the Romans, and only indicated -her disgust by a slight elevation of the nose, as Frank's successor -was announced, and Launcelot, in a high state of excitement and a -huge red necktie, took the floor. - -"Our slop barrel was running over. And ma wanted to give some of it -to Hennesy's chickens, and I wouldn't let her because it ud make -Hennesy's yard look worse than ever. And she said it was the slop -collector's fault and that Cherry Street was always neglekted. And I -said I'll see to it. And I went to see the slop gentleman at the city -hall and told him about the slop running over, and the germs that -were just flying round loose inside, and I spoke fierce and he said -he'd 'tend to it. And I said he'd better and he said he would and he -did. An' we've smelled nice ever since. - -"And Johanna who lives with old man Schultzsky threw tin cans into -the street, and we kids waited till night an' then stuck them all -along on the pickets to his fence, an' she don't do it any more. An' -I asked ma not to wash me and Mike in the same water, and she said -all right if I'd carry in fresh water and I did. - -"An' there was a grocery boy dropped a egg on our walk, and I made -him clean it up. - -"An' I got two kids to sign our pledge, and they'll come to every -meetin' where there's going to be grub." - -Launcelot's recital was followed by a chorus of admiration. Francis' -face was hidden, but his shaking shoulders showed his emotion, and -Miss Billy's eyes danced as she patted the small workman upon the -shoulder, exclaiming, "Bravo, Launcelot! You're our Master Constable." - -"Now me," begged little Mike. - -"Are even the babes in arms mustered into service?" asked Francis. - -"To be sure they are," responded the hostess. "Mike is one of our -best workers. Tell us about it, dear." - -"A boy camed and shaked our new 'ittle twee. An' I said 'No, no, -boy,' and he wunned away. And Fwiddie helped me make a fence wound -it," lisped the little lad. - -Even Marie Jean was delighted with the childish recital, and she -joined enthusiastically in the applause which followed. Little Mike -buried his face in his sister's lap, and only glanced out shyly when -Friddie began his report. - -"I'm using my ecspress wagon to clean up the streets with," he began. -"I go out early every morning, and Aaron Levi helps me. We pick up -all the trash in the street an' pile it in my wagon, and sometimes -there's two loads of it. We sell it to Mr. Hennesy for fillin' holes -with. He gives us a cent a load. We bought nine cents worth of taffy -on a stick last week, an' we're goin' to save up to buy a patrol -wagon." - -One by one the other reports followed. Lena Engel had burned a pile -of rubbish in the alley; Moses Levi had gathered all the old rags on -the street and sold them to the ragman; Mary O'Shea had planted grass -seed in her yard; Pius Coffee had cut down "eight stacks of weeds"; -the little Moriaritys had "filled up a sink hole" on their premises; -Jacob Kohn had stopped putting ashes in the street; and two of the -larger boys had placed a box on the corner, for the disposal of -rubbish. Even the tiniest children had their small stories to tell, -and Miss Billy glowed with pride as the last member of the Street -Cleaning Brigade was heard from. - -"Isn't that splendid?" she said, with face aglow, as she turned to -her two older guests. "Just think what it will mean to Cherry Street -to have citizens of this kind growing up on it!" - -Francis had risen from his place on the grass, and was facing the -small audience. "May I give my report?" he asked, his brown eyes -twinkling mischievously through his sedate glasses. - -Miss Billy's pleased face was consent enough. - -"You all know how long I have lived on Cherry Street," began Francis; -"just long enough to be greatly interested in your work, and yet -not long enough to accomplish much. During that time I have had two -sidewalks repaired, a new one laid, and some curbing reset. I have -taken down three fences. I have cleared my uncle's yard of weeds, -and we are beginning repairs on his house. I don't know what one's -qualifications must be to belong to your club, but I should like to -join,--here and now." - -The members of the Street Improvement Club cheered with enthusiasm -at this delightful addition to their number. But there was a greater -surprise in store for them. - -"And so would I," said Marie Jean unexpectedly. - -Whether it was Francis' example, or the reports of the little ones, -that had inspired the action, it would be hard to say; but the cause -of Marie Jean's conversion was not inquired. - -The pledge was brought out, and amid vociferous applause the names of -Marie Jean Hennesy and Francis Wilde Lindsay were added to the roll. - -"The feast of reason and the flow of soul has come to an end," -announced Miss Billy, as she collected the written reports, and laid -them in a neat pile on the grass. "But our mundane bodies are yet to -be fed. On yonder porch there sits a jug, and in the jug there is -some beer--only root, however. Launcelot, if I pour the drink which -cheers but not inebriates, will you pass the cakes?" - -"Yes-um," replied the boy with alacrity. - -Marie Jean's face was expressive of a little disappointment as -Francis rose from the grass and followed Miss Billy and Launcelot to -the porch. - -"I wonder if I can help her," she said to Ginevra. - -Ginevra's unchildish eyes turned upon the speaker. "She don't need no -help," she said slowly. "Mr. Francis needn't 'a' gone. He just went -'cause he likes her company-ship." - -The children had finished their root beer, and noisily rounded the -corner of the house; and Marie Jean had reluctantly departed with -repeated assurances of her aid in the future, when Miss Billy and -Francis sat down in the deserted yard. - -"It has been a great success," he said. "I cannot thank you enough -for permitting me to enjoy the morning with you. It's a fine work, -Miss Lee." - -The girl looked up brightly. "It was interesting," she admitted. "The -little ones have worked so faithfully and well. I am proud of them -all. But there is so much yet to accomplish. I think Cherry Street -has been effectually aroused, and we can depend on the children to -keep it awake. But it will take so much money to do what we wish, -and our hands are practically empty." - -Francis was silent for a few moments. "Are there no ways of raising -money?" he said finally. "Seems to me there's energy enough in this -club to earn some." - -"We're going to do that," said Miss Billy. "We are planning a lawn -fête now. The mothers are all going to help us, and the children have -been working like Trojans. It will be held in our yard, and we shall -demand your attendance, and maybe your services. Everybody on the -street will be roped in to help. Of course we will raise some money -in this way, but there are so many things to spend it for. It won't -go half way round." - -Francis pondered. - -"Why don't you try for the Hanson prize?" he asked finally. - -"What _is_ the Hanson prize?" - -"Why, haven't you heard? The papers are full of it to-day. Peter -Hanson, the New York florist, offers a prize of one hundred dollars -to be voted to improvements on any city street which makes the -greatest change for the better during this year. The money is to -be awarded about December 25, and the judges are to decide from -photographs,--the 'before and after taking' style, you know." - -Miss Billy's eyes sparkled. - -"I wish we could," she exclaimed. - -"Well, why can't you? Look what fine work you've done in short time. -Think what you can accomplish in almost four months. You won't have -to do much to make a great improvement here, for every little thing -will show. I'll bring out my camera, and we'll take our first picture -to-morrow morning. Then we'll go to work together." - -"Will you help me?" asked Miss Billy delightedly. - -"To be sure I will. Am I not the agent on Cherry Street, and will -not every improvement benefit my uncle's property? It's all a matter -of business, you see. You'll let me help you, won't you?" He held -out his hand questioningly. The brown eyes looked into the grey -ones steadily and earnestly. Miss Billy put her hand into his with a -grateful look that spoke volumes. - -"I shall be glad of help," she said simply. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -THE LAWN SOCIAL - - "Never was seen such a motley crowd,-- - Never was seen such a merry throng. - Never was laughter so long and loud: - Never so merry the jest and song." - - -"CHERRY STREET will be ablaze with light and aglow with colour," -Theodore had mocked some months before. "Number 12 will be filled -with diamond tiaras, and cut glass pianos, and freezers full of ice -cream, to signify that a function is on!" And the spirit of his -prophecy was being fulfilled. - -Miss Billy, herself, had tied eighteen campaign torches to the -front pickets. Now, as the twilight closed in, like tiny watchfires -they sent their welcoming gleams up and down Cherry Street to the -faithful. And the faithful, one hundred fifty strong, headed by Mr. -Hennesy, in a wonderful dress coat of the fashion of '69, and brought -up in the rear by Mr. Schultzsky, on two stout oaken crutches, partly -for Miss Billy's sake, and partly for the sake of the clean street, -marched to the Street Improvement Club's first lawn social. - -Long vistas of Chinese lanterns in red and blue and yellow swung -gaily over the lawn in double rows. Francis had furnished these. John -Thomas Hennesy had brought two locomotive headlights, and these, -stationed on the side where Miss Billy hoped her "berbarry haidge" -might sometime be, shot their rays across the yard straight into -the faces of the astonished hollyhocks, and beyond, to where Mr. -Hennesy's shirt flapped, wraith-like, on the Hennesy clothes-reel. -The house, thrown wide open, radiated with light and hospitality. -Children, comporting themselves with a dignity befitting the -occasion, were everywhere. And still the people, in twos or threes, -or sometimes shyly alone, with mysterious bundles under their arms -warranted to contain ten cents' worth of household merchandise, -which they should presently mix up and buy again, kept coming -steadily through the front gate. - -Miss Billy, radiant in a pink gown, with pink sash ribbons fluttering -at her waist, and her eyes shining like stars, squeezed John Thomas's -arm in a little ecstasy of excitement as he knelt in the grass, -putting the rapidly accumulating packages into clothes baskets. - -"It is going to be a success," she predicted joyously. "It seems as -though the people would never stop coming, and when we've sold every -one of these packages at ten cents each, Cherry Street Improvement -Club will have at least fifteen dollars in its treasury. John Thomas, -I'm the happiest girl in the world to-night!" - -"And the prettiest,"--said John Thomas admiringly, sitting back in -the grass, and taking in her appearance critically, from the pink bow -on the top of her head to the toe of her black slipper. - -"Now, that isn't like you," said Miss Billy reprovingly. "Usually -you don't pay compliments, because you are too truthful; but you -haven't seen Beatrice. She's in shimmery white, with a heavenly thing -thrown over her head. And oh, John Thomas, the dearest, sweetest, -handsomest girl in the world, with the darkest eyes and the waviest -hair, will be here presently. It is Margaret Van Courtland. She's -just home from Germany, and she is coming to the social to-night." - -"Well, you suit me all right," said John Thomas, returning to his -packages with a determined air. Then he added sullenly, "I'd be -feelin' all right, too, to-night, if it wasn't for that darn Francis -Lindsay." - -Miss Billy gasped in astonishment. "Why, what in the world has -Francis been doing to you?" - -"Nothin'," said John Thomas, with a noncommittal air. - -"But you said you didn't like him," persisted Miss Billy, in -bewilderment. - -"Do you?" - -"Why, of course I do! I think he's elegant, and--and gentlemanly, and -handsome, and everything! I don't see what you can have against him." - -John Thomas made no reply, but went stubbornly on putting the -packages into the clothes baskets, and Miss Billy sat flat on the -grass to think the matter over. - -"Now you are the second one," she went on, "that has an unreasonable -grudge against Francis. There is Beatrice,--she treats him horridly. -To-day when we were getting things ready, if she had to hand him a -nail, she'd draw up her lips and give it to him as if he were a cat. -It's horrid of Bea,--and I've had to take her to task about it more -than once. And do you know, in spite of it all, I believe Francis -likes her immensely." - -"He seems to like other girls immensely, too," said John Thomas, from -the depths of the basket. - -"Oh, but not like that!" said Miss Billy with conviction. "When -she is out of the room, he watches for her return,--and when she -is in the room, though he talks to me, he looks at _her_. But you -must never--never breathe it, John Thomas. Beatrice would faint at -the very idea, and she'd never forgive me! It must be a dead secret -between you and me." - -"Is this straight goods you're giving me?" demanded John Thomas, -rising to his full height and gazing down at Miss Billy, seated on -the grass. - -"Why, I've never had any love affairs of my own. I never had anybody -look hard at me, or take snubs cheerfully, or anything of that kind, -you know. But as I said before, it's my conviction it is true." - -"Well," said John Thomas, going down on his knees before the baskets -again, "if it _is_ true,--if it is Miss Beatrice he fancies, why, -then, he won't find no rival in me." - -"Miss Billy, where are you?" called Beatrice, around the corner of -the house. "Margaret is here, and looking everywhere for you." - -Miss Billy hurried away, and in another moment, in the full glare of -a headlight, had her arms around the neck of a tall handsome girl, -who was returning the salutation with interest. - -"Billy!" remonstrated the newcomer laughingly. "You have a hug like a -bear! You've spoiled my hair and crushed my attire. And I am in one -of my best dresses, too, I'll give you to understand! I've brought -six of the girls along with me, and we've pledged ourselves to put a -dollar each in the box, and help make the thing go." - -"Oh, but it's good to see you again," breathed Miss Billy. "My cup -runneth over! I have a thousand things to say to you. Where shall I -commence first?" - -"Defer it till to-morrow," counselled Margaret. "We shall visit all -day. Your time to-night belongs to the lawn fête, not to me,--and -I am here to help you. Introduce me instantly to your Marie Jean -Hennesy, and to your lady of letters with the six children, and I -want to see every flower in the child garden, and Theodore,--oh, but -first of all, let me meet your remarkable Francis Lindsay. Billy, -your letters have taken on a suspicious tone of late!" - -They locked arms in schoolgirl fashion, and came upon Marie Jean, who -was presiding over a lemonade table. Miss Billy introduced them, and -the two types of girlhood, one representing fashion in Cherry Street, -the other the gentle blood of Ashurst Place, gazed intently at each -other. - -Marie Jean was gotten up in a style known as "regardless." She wore -a sweeping black lace dress covered with spangles, that might have -graced a coronation ceremony. The sleeves terminated at the elbows in -two large puffs of blue satin, and her wrists tinkled with bracelets -and bangles. Her hair was bushed in heavy frizzes over her ears, -and in the untidy waves piled high on the top of her head gleamed a -crescent of Rhine stones. - -[Illustration: Marie Jean was gotten up in a style known as -"regardless."] - -"My, she's plain!" was Marie Jean's mental ejaculation as she -looked at the girl before her. Margaret's pretty dark hair was -parted evenly in the middle, and plaited into heavy Dutch braids -about her shapely head. Her dress was a yellow embroidered mull, -with simple sash ribbons of the same colour. Had it not been for -two slender rings that flashed upon the finger of one hand, Marie -Jean might not have thought her worthy of passing consideration. -But as the girls talked on in a friendly fashion, she gleaned from -Miss Billy's remarks that Margaret was a student of music and the -modern languages:--that she pursued her studies in Europe:--that she -would return in the Spring:--and Marie Jean could no longer doubt -that she was the "real thing." Moreover, she was pretty,--undeniably -pretty,--with dark eyes, and white even teeth. Marie Jean wondered -if "he" might not fancy this stranger, and for the first time in her -life, she considered her own personal attractions with misgivings. - -A rush of lemonade trade separated the girls, and Miss Billy and -Margaret, wending their way on, came upon Francis, lifting over the -back fence a load of belated chairs, borrowed from the church. - -"I'll call Moses Levi to do this,--you've worked enough to-day," -ordered Miss Billy. "Beside, I want to introduce you to my very -dearest friend, Margaret Van Courtland." - -As Francis flecked the dust from his clothes and came forward, a ray -of the headlight fell directly upon Margaret's face. "I have had the -pleasure of meeting Miss Van Courtland before," he said, without a -moment's hesitation. - -"I beg your pardon," said Margaret uncertainly,--"I cannot -remember----" Then as the light fell upon his tall form, handsome -face, and dark, grave eyes, she gave a little gasp, and floundered -helplessly in a sea of words. "Why,--I had no idea!--of course, we -met in Cologne,--that is, we both fell in the mud!--Miss Billy, this -is the _Count_!" - - * * * * * - -On a lawn seat, in the flare of the campaign torches, Mr. Hennesy, -a glass of lemonade in hand, held forth to a bevy of Miss Van -Courtland's fashionable friends on the superiority of masculine -intellect as compared to that of woman. - -"Sure an' phwat if a man cut off th' top av his coat, an' sewed it -onto th' lig av his pants, to thrail in th' mud afther 'im? Sure an' -wudn't ye be afther thinkin' he was crazy? Answer me thot, now?" - -"Why, of course we would," answered the girls in a breath. "But then, -Mr. Hennesy, we don't----" - -"Wait now," said Mr. Hennesy, holding up one finger triumphantly. -"Be aisy a bit. There's one p'int scored fer th' masculoine moind! -Now thin,--phwat if I sh'ud be afther comin' here to-noight wid a -feather shtuck up in me hair, or a gould buttherfly hoverin' over me -forehead, th' same as ye have? Wudn't ye be afther thinkin' me brain -no heavier than me head-dress? Answer me thot, now." - -"It certainly would look funny," admitted the girls laughingly. - -"There's two p'ints scored fer th' masculoine moind!" counted off Mr. -Hennesy. "An' now,--if besides havin' a feather or a buttherfly in me -head, I'd be daubin' me face wid red paint----" - -"Oh, but we don't do that!" protested the girls in chorus. - -"Some ladies does," said Mr. Hennesy sententiously. "Thot's three -p'ints in favour of the masculoine moind!" - - * * * * * - -On the sofa, in the corner of the parlour, Beatrice had found Mr. -Schultzsky, looking very pale and tired. - -"I haf been looking for my nephew," said the old man. "I think we -should go home." - -"Oh, Mr. Lindsay is surrounded by admiring young ladies," answered -Beatrice. "It would be a pity to spoil his good time. Beside, you -must wait and have a mystery package. They are selling at ten cents -each, and every one is warranted." - -She brought from the kitchen a cup of tea and a slice of cake, and -settled the tray cozily on the old man's knees. "They don't seem to -need me in the garden, so I shall stay with you," she said. "May I -sing for you?" - -She seated herself at the piano, and hesitated a moment, wondering -what style of song the old man might like. "Something old-fashioned, -anyhow," she decided, and began in a sweet contralto voice "The -Pilgrim." - - "I'm a pilgrim, and I'm a stranger, - I can tarry, I can tarry but a night: - To that country where I am going, - My Redeemer, my Redeemer is the light. - There is no sorrow,--nor any sighing, - Nor any tears there,--nor any dying: - I'm a pilgrim, and I'm a stranger, - I can tarry, I can tarry but a night." - -There was the sound of a crutch on the floor, and Beatrice was amazed -to find Mr. Schultzsky standing at her side, wiping his eyes on his -red cotton handkerchief. - -"My wife wass young like you," he said brokenly, "and she sang the -same song. It wass a long time ago. She lifed only three months." - -"I am sorry, Mr. Schultzsky," was all Beatrice found to say. She -thought of the picture of the beautiful lady, hung crooked and high -on the wall, opposite the old harness. "Perhaps grief and loneliness -have made him what he is," she thought pityingly. "Miss Billy is -right. There is a tender side to everybody, if we can only find it." - -Outside on a platform improvised from an over-turned tub Policeman -Canary was selling off the packages with neatness and despatch. Mr. -Hennesy disported a pair of ladies' side combs in his hair. Mrs. -Hennesy had a mouse-trap. Margaret Van Courtland became the happy -possessor of a pound of dried codfish, Francis had a pair of red -mittens, three sizes too small. Miss Billy drew a fire shovel, John -Thomas got a mouth organ, and Mrs. Canary revelled in a dream book. -Theodore was going round with an ornamental and very sticky candy -heart that one of the children had contributed, begging every one to -accept it,--and finally traded it to Marie Jean Hennesy for a bottle -of catsup. - -"We'll open ours together," said Beatrice, coming back to Mr. -Schultzsky in the parlour. - -Inside the wrappings in Mr. Schultzsky's hand lay a dainty thing, -tied in tissue paper and blue ribbon. "Oh, it's what Margaret Van -Courtland brought," exclaimed Beatrice. It was a lady's handkerchief, -sheer and fine, edged about with a delicate lace. It lay in the old -man's palm, yielding up a faint perfume and he gazed at it without -speaking. - -"And I," said Beatrice brightly, "have a package of smoking tobacco! -Now that will be handy next Spring to pack away my furs." - -The children grew sleepy, and the torches burned out, before the -guests departed. Every one was in holiday humour. Every one voted it -a success, and begged Miss Billy to set an early date for another. -Miss Billy, tired but elated, counted the money in the tin box. -"Twenty-five dollars!" she announced jubilantly. "With that amount -the Improvement Club shall work wonders. There is a five-dollar bill -here. I wonder if anybody could have contributed that amount?" - -"Mr. Schultzsky put that in,--that is, he gave it to me to put in for -him," answered Beatrice quietly. - -"Now what do you suppose can have come over the spirit of the old -fellow's dream?" said Theodore. "Maybe he's enamoured of you, Bea." - -"No, I think not," said Beatrice soberly. "I believe it was the -stirring of a tender memory. He talked to me to-night of a girl wife, -who died." - -"Well, it has been a night of nights, and I am not surprised at -anything," said Miss Billy. "To think that Francis should prove to be -the Count, and Margaret and her set should go wild over him! Did you -know, Beatrice, that he is a Princeton graduate;--and has had a year -at Heidelberg, beside?" - -Beatrice yawned. "Is there any more to do to-night?" she said. "I'm -very sleepy." - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -MARGARET LENDS ASSISTANCE - - "Though whatsoever ills betide, - I'll stand for ever by your side, - And naught shall you and me divide - Because you are my friend." - - -"THE only nice thing about your going away is your coming home -again," said Miss Billy to Margaret. - -The two girls were seated side by side on the floor in Margaret's -room, which bore a startling resemblance to a fancy bazaar. The bed -was filled with airy masses of silk and gauze, the divan covered -with ribbons and gloves and shoes, and the floor strewn with a -varied assortment of hats, perfumery flasks, filigree silver and -handkerchiefs. Margaret's last trunk had arrived from abroad, and -the two girls were spending the morning at that mysterious and -delightful task known to all womankind as "unpacking." - -"It's the next best thing to going away myself," continued Miss -Billy, "to have you go; and come home with so much of the foreign -atmosphere about you. Your sentences fairly ooze Rhine water, and -foreign castles, and pretzels." - -"Am I as bad as that?" laughed Margaret. "You remember Edward -Eggleston's woman, whose topic of conversation was always, 'when I -was to Bosting.' Do I give the impression of having been to Bosting?" - -"Certainly you do," accused Miss Billy. "You've talked of nothing -else since your return. Of course I might confess that I've egged you -on a little,--a very little,--for politeness' sake. Oh, Peggy dear, -it does seem so inexpressibly adorable to have you here again!" - -"In order that you may tell me I talk too much," laughed Margaret -again. "Never mind, Miss Billy. Your turn will come in a few -moments, and I know from your eager and glittering eye that you have -much to tell yourself. Here is the box I was looking for. I put the -little things I got for you when I was abroad all together so that I -could have the fun of seeing you open them." - -"The little things" filled a long pasteboard box, with a queer -foreign picture on the label. Margaret tossed it over on her friend's -lap. Inside were a number of bundles and packages, two long tubes of -pasteboard, and several smaller boxes. Miss Billy's lips trembled -with a smile in which tenderness as well as joy was mingled. - -"I can't tell you----" she began. - -"Open them quick," commanded Margaret. "I want to see if they're -right. Everything in the box was chosen especially for you." - -Miss Billy obediently untied the packages. Margaret's words were -true. Everything in the box had been chosen with a loving care that -made the gifts still sweeter. There was a flame-coloured shawl of -soft clinging crêpe, a gay Roman sash, a string of pale pink corals, -four pairs of gloves in various shades of tan, a small gauze fan -with ivory sticks, some carved wooden animals from the Black Forest, -a set of crystals in purple and white, and best of all--two large -photographs of famous paintings--the little Angel of the Lute, and -the boy St. John. - -"Mother has something else for you," said Margaret, delighted at the -evident success of her gifts. "She found three long pongee coats for -you and Beatrice and me. They are just alike except for the trimming, -and she thought it would be fun for us to have them alike." - -Miss Billy glanced down at the heap of treasures in her lap to hide -the grateful tears in her eyes. "I don't know how to thank you," she -began unsteadily. - -"Oh, pshaw," returned Margaret. "You'd better compose some grateful -resolutions, in nine or ten whereases, which will express your -emotions. I don't remember that I ever wept tears of thankfulness -over the things you brought me from Chinatown when you went West. I -merely received them as what was due me by all the laws of right and -justice. That yellow shawl will make you look like a dream, Billy. I -thought of your browny-coppery hair when I bought it." - -"It isn't the _things_ that I'm grateful for," began Miss Billy -smiling through her tears. "It's just that you're home again, I -guess. You don't know how much I've missed you, Peggy. You know, -dear, it makes lots of difference in the number of friends one has, -if one moves from Ashurst Place to Cherry Street." - -"Why?" asked Margaret innocently. - -"That's just what I knew you'd say," exclaimed Miss Billy. "A thing -like that would never occur to you. But it does occur to the majority -of people." - -"Do you mean to say that your old friends have treated you -differently since you--you moved?" demanded Margaret indignantly. - -"Yes, I do mean that," responded Miss Billy. There was a moment's -hesitation before she added proudly, "Of course, Margaret, I don't -feel that it has made any difference with _me_. Only I have to admit -to you that it does make a big difference with others." - -"With whom, for instance?" questioned Margaret. "The Blanchards and -their ilk? I thought so. Wilhelmina Lee, you don't dare to tell me -that the Blanchard tribe _can_ hurt you?" - -There was a world of comfort in Margaret's loyal voice, and Miss -Billy was forced to smile at her vehemence. - -"I should be ashamed of you if I thought they could," went on -Margaret. "They are such a punk lot--if you'll excuse my English. -We met Mrs. Blanchard and the girls in Germany, and they were kind -enough to offer us their escort through Europe. Mrs. Blanchard is -a regular Old Woman of the Sea, and we were afraid we would either -have to commit suicide or murder to get rid of her. She attached -herself to mamma, and always called her 'my dear,' before strangers. -She introduced papa as 'the Honourable Mr. Van Courtland'--you can -imagine how furious that made my respected parent! And as for me, in -a burst of affection, one day, she assured me that any one who had -seen me six years ago would never have thought I 'would turn out so -well!'" - -The imitation of Mrs. Blanchard's caressing tones was perfect. - -"She also told us the news of our friends," continued Margaret. "Of -course I asked about you, the first thing; and she responded that you -were interesting yourself in settlement work. It was such a laudable -and praiseworthy undertaking, but she understood that it was apt to -be dirty; and--now don't be mad--Miss Billy--a little unmaidenly, for -a young girl. Naturally my ire rose, and I replied that I thought it -was the loveliest thing that a girl could do; that I had heard about -what you had accomplished on Cherry Street, and that the moment I -got home I was going to help,--if I wasn't too stupid. You don't mind -my telling you all this, do you, Billy?" - -Margaret's guest was surveying her with shining eyes and eager -expression. She did not seem to hear the last question. "Oh, will -you? Will you?" she demanded delightedly. "Oh, Peggy, you can help so -much if you will." - -Margaret threw aside the masses of chiffon she had been folding, and -faced Miss Billy with straightforward eyes. "How?" she asked. Miss -Billy hesitated. There was help needed in so many places. Then the -pathetic face of Holly Belle rose before her. She thought of the worn -little hands that thumped imaginary times on every piece of furniture -in the house, of the sad little voice that spent its sweetness in -lullabies, and of the starved little soul that was pining for the -melody that had been utterly left out of her life. She remembered -the unchildish expression of longing for a piano, and she told -Holly Belle's sorry little story in a way that was very touching. -Margaret's eyes grew tender, and her voice was very sweet as she said -simply: - -"I am more than ever glad of my music now. I shall love to help her. -And she shall practice on my piano, too. Tell me all you have been -doing on Cherry Street," said Margaret, as Miss Billy ratified the -agreement with a grateful look that spoke volumes. - -"Not very much," said Miss Billy modestly. "In fact, I haven't -attempted much. 'Settlement work,' as our friend Mrs. Blanchard so -genteelly put it, is not in my line. When I first went to live on -the street I had great ideas of Improvement and Progress, with a -big I and P. There was such grand opportunity for both. I had in my -mind's eye a view of Cherry Street, shining with cleanliness and -beauty; the neighbourhood united by a community of interests, and -the thoroughfare famed far and wide as a model avenue. Now if I can -get the Canarys to deposit their garbage in a barrel instead of the -gutter, can induce the Levi children and the little Hogans to stop -fighting at least one night out of the week, and can tell the street -car conductor to let me off near Cherry Street without having him -say, 'Where's that, lady?' I shall be satisfied." - -"But what about the Child Garden and the Civic Improvement Club? -Mr. Lindsay--I shall never cease to call him the Count to my own -soul--says that you have already lured him into the work, and are -going to give him a gymnasium class to manage as soon as cold weather -begins. And that willowy lady at the lawn fête who assured me that -she was 'the mother of a numerous prodigy, and naturally restricted -to her home circle----'" - -"That was Mrs. Canary----" - -"Told me that you were the inspiring genii of the place, and that you -had everybody on the street under the charm of your dainty thumb." - -"She ought to see my hands after this unpacking seance," put in Miss -Billy. - -"Don't interrupt, I'm not through yet. And Miss Marie Jean Hennesy -assured me that since Mr. Lindsay came you had 'waked up to the needs -of the street.' But the best is yet to come. Marie Jean's father, -the old philosopher who appeared in the frock coat of the vintage of -'69--complimented you up to the skies. He said that it was well that -there was only one o' Miss Billy, or the street 'ud be baked with the -sunshine she made." - -Miss Billy had sunk back against the bed, overpowered by the assault -of praises. - -"'I was never so bethumped with words,'" she quoted. "I'm not -accustomed to such flattery." - -"Well, don't be so painfully modest, then. There's no sense in -concealing things from me, Miss Billy. Other people will tell me if -you don't. Papa and mamma wrote me the whole history of your triumphs -two months ago,--the people on Cherry Street openly dote and gloat -over you, and as for '_Miss_ Francis Lindsay'--if it were any one -else but you I should be devoured with jealousy!" - -"Mr. Lindsay has been of great help to me," said Miss Billy simply. -Her face was very happy. Up to the present time she had felt that -the work had been its own reward, but it was very sweet to have it -appreciated by others. - -"He _is_ a nice fellow," said Margaret. "Simple and manly, I mean, -and without the conceit that usually goes with those boys of brain -and brawn, who have led their class and been captain of the college -football team. Of course, Miss Billy, I'm perfectly willing that he -should help you with your civic improvement work, but don't ever fail -to remember that I saw him first!" - -"I won't forget," laughed Miss Billy. "But you must take care, -Margaret. Marie Jean, according to Mrs. Canary, has a 'manner that's -tinged with romantickism towards Mr. Francis.' However, as long as he -is willing to help me in the Cherry Street work, I suppose you will -permit me to use him. A boy can do more than a girl in many ways, and -since Theodore has gone to work I often feel the need of a masculine -hand." - -"I suppose he comes in handily in chastising the Canary birds? How -you must miss Ted during the whole day? You have always been together -so much." - -"I do miss him," responded Miss Billy soberly. Ted's hard lot had not -yet ceased to leave a sore spot in his sister's heart. "Still I do -admire him for sticking to his work." - -"Do you know that he has changed much in the last six months?" -inquired Margaret. "Of course he has grown much taller, but that -isn't all. He seems so much older and more sedate. He laughs and -jokes, but the old happy-go-lucky boy is gone. The change is -delightful, but I do confess I miss the old teasing Ted." - -Miss Billy looked a little anxious. "Yes, I know it," she said. "I -have noticed it myself recently, and I've worried over it a little." - - "Never let yourself be worried, - Or hurried, or flurried," - -sang Margaret. - -"I'm not worrying or flurrying," retorted Miss Billy. "And as for -hurrying"--she held up the new gloves as she spoke-- - - "Time kid and I were home - Half an hour ago. - -"If I dared I should put on my new beads, my scarf, my sash and my -crêpe shawl, and, carrying my new fan in my neatly gloved hands, -should go home arrayed in all my glory; but I know I should die of -pride before I reached my humble doorstep. So I shall wrap them up -tightly, and say 'fine feathers do not make fine birds' over and over -all my way home. Oh, Peggoty, I never dreamed that I should actually -own a string of coral beads myself!" - -"I wish you could stay to luncheon," sighed Margaret. "However, I'm -coming for you with the cart this afternoon, and after we drive we'll -come here for dinner. You'll have to, you see, in order to try on the -coat before mother." - -"Don't offer any inducements," said Miss Billy. "I shall continue to -live with you from now on. Tie your German flag to the window as a -signal when you don't want to see me. I shall come here for music, -for companionship, for comfort, for help, and for advice. In short, -Margaret, you'll be sorry, before the autumn begins, that you are -such an 'eddicated person.' I may possibly have mentioned this fact -to you before, but I _am_ glad, glad, glad that you are at home -again." - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - -PERSONAL PLEASURE - - "How sad, and bad, and mad it was! - But then how it was sweet!" - - -"SCHOOL commences Monday," groaned Theodore dismally, from his -favourite position on the couch. "How I am to modulate my tones to -Virgil's verse after shouting at Mr. Hennesy's mules for two months, -I can't see. As for a geometrical theorem, I haven't a single lucid -idea on the subject. It's been a great summer, come to look back on -it." - -"Dear me," said Miss Billy, throwing down the book she was -reading,--"I don't see how I am going to break loose from everything -and go back to school. The Canary birdlings will be just as dirty and -ill-cared for as ever,--and little Mike, and Isaac Levi, and a half -dozen others are too young for the public kindergarten. Then there's -the Street Improvement Club, and the mothers' meetings,--why, I don't -see what I am to do." - -Beatrice looked up from the lunch cloth she was hemstitching for a -church fair. "If you can trust the smaller children to me," she said -timidly, "I think I can take care of them. I was talking to Mrs. -Canary to-day. I told her she could send the twins and Mikey over -every morning for two hours, as usual. She seemed so relieved and -happy over it, and promised that Holly Belle should go to school." - -"Oh," cried Miss Billy, with shining eyes, "it's lovely of you, Bea, -and Holly Belle will be wild with delight. But those babies are the -slipp'riest things when they're wet!" - -"I shall not drop them," said Beatrice firmly. "I shall think of -Holly Belle all the time, and that her chances depend upon my -success. All the rest of the little brood shall have as conscientious -care as I can give them for two hours every day,--but I don't expect -it to be easy for me, as it is for you." - -"Oh, they'll love you, Bea," said Miss Billy enthusiastically. "You -don't know what dear little things they are, especially just after -they've been washed. Well, _that's_ settled, then. Margaret will be -glad to relieve you at any time, I know,--and she will continue to -look after Holly Belle's music, too. The way the child takes to it is -simply wonderful. Francis, of course, will continue at the head of -the Street Improvement Club." - -"Five long days between this and school, and nothing to do!" murmured -Theodore luxuriously from the couch. "I shall drive no mules,--I -shall instruct no growing intellects. Fads may continue to lead Miss -Billy round by the nose, up to the very last minute,--but I shall do -nothing at all!" - -"It has been a busy summer," said Mrs. Lee, with a half arrested sigh. - -"Is it good news, papa?" asked Beatrice of her father, who in the -soft glow of the study lamp had been perusing the illegibly scrawled -sheets of a special delivery letter. - -"It is more!" said the minister impressively. "It is a vindication of -human nature under the worst circumstances. Nearly twenty years ago -a young fellow came to me for assistance. He had been in a hospital -with a fever, and had neither money, work or friends. He wanted to -go out West, where he thought he might be able to find employment. -I drew him out about his past life, and found he knew what it was -to sleep in a haystack and be lodged in a jail: but I lent him -twenty-five dollars----" - -"And he has died a millionaire and bequeathed you a fortune," wound -up Theodore dramatically, sitting upright. - -"No," said the minister, smiling, "those things happen only in books. -What the fellow has really done is to return me the amount I lent -him, with a half-manly sort of a letter showing he has cherished -a sense of gratitude all these years. That is much more than I -expected." - -"Conscience money!" groaned Beatrice. "I suppose it will go to the -poor." - -"Let us hope to the deserving poor, like me!" observed Theodore, -dismally echoing the groan, and collapsing on the couch again. - -"Or like father," said Miss Billy severely. "It would buy him lots of -things he needs." - -The minister sat tapping his glasses with smiling introspection. -"When I was a lad," he said slowly, "I desired with all my heart and -soul a certain steam toy. It was rather a clever contrivance, and of -course, was expensive. But I wanted it more than I've wanted anything -since. Sometimes I dream I am a boy again, and always I see standing -in the black shadow of disappointment that steam toy." - -"And father's going to buy it now," said Theodore breathlessly. - -"No," said the minister, shaking his head: "It's too late! that's the -worst of it. But that was a distinct disappointment in my life that -no amount of reasoning could reason me out of." - -"It makes me think of an incident of my own childhood," said Mrs. -Lee. "When I was about five years old, I attended my first party, -given by a neighbour's child. All I can remember is that a black-eyed -lady with dark curly hair passed a platter of tarts, and with an -indistinct idea that it was a well-bred thing to do, I said, 'No, -thank you,--I don't eat tarts.' Then I sat with welling eyes watching -the other little guests eat theirs. It was a very real grief. I -cried for that tart in the loneliness of many nights,--and I haven't -forgotten it in thirty years." - -"It is my belief that every one has ungratified whims," said the -minister. "Some are grown-up whims, but none the less whimsical. -I propose that we use this money for the gratification of purely -personal pleasure. There will be five dollars for each of us. We'll -have one glorious day of vacation,--with the world before us, and -five dollars for spending money!" - -"I know what I should like to buy with mine," said Beatrice, "but I -know you would all think it silly." - -"And I've had an ungratified whim for years!" said Miss Billy, rising -and overthrowing a pile of books in her excitement. "But you'll call -it preposterous when you find out what it is!" - -"Now watch her bring home a bear cub with a silver chain round -its neck, and want me to build it a little pagoda to live in," -said Theodore disdainfully. "But I know what I am going to do. I -shall be the Count of Monte Cristo for one day only. Remember the -date,--September the first,--to-morrow!" - -"But it does seem a little wasteful," began Mrs. Lee, smiling in -spite of herself at the exuberance of spirit in the air, "especially -when----" - -The minister interrupted, a mischievous ring in his voice. "I beg to -remind you, Mrs. Lee, that 'All work and no play makes Jack a dull -boy.' We intend to have a lark. To relieve your mind let me add that -I myself shall go on an eminently respectable lark,--one that shall -not estrange me from my flock, for instance. We intend for one day -to divide our ages by two, and no remainder. You shall be one of us, -or forfeit your money. Though poor in pocket, we shall be rich in -experiences. Do you agree?" - -There was much bustling commotion at Number 12 Cherry Street the next -morning. "I've sent word to the children not to come to-day," said -Miss Billy, putting on her hat and tucking her rain coat under her -arm. "Poor little things,--they'll be disappointed. Well,--good-bye, -Bea,--I shall not see you again till night." - -"Now do be careful, Wilhelmina," warned Beatrice. "Don't buy anything -you don't want, or make yourself conspicuous in any way, or----" - -"Why," said Miss Billy, "I am going to gratify a heretofore -ungratified whim. There are no conditions whatever. I have divided -my age by two, the world is before me, and I have five dollars for -spending money. Well, good-bye again; take care of yourself, dear," -and Miss Billy sailed off down the street. - -Theodore went next. He was attired in his very best clothes, and -presented a fashionable appearance in a fearfully high collar and a -white tie. Then the minister departed. Beatrice could hear him say -to her mother in the hall, "I haven't had such delightful chills of -anticipation since I took part in cane rushes at college twenty-five -years ago. And I haven't the slightest idea what I'm going to do, -either!" - -Next Beatrice heard the door close after her mother's retreating -form. She peeped out of the window and noted she carried a shopping -bag. "The dear," she said. "She will buy us all stockings or gloves, -and declare it was a purely personal whim. But it won't be keeping to -the contract if she does!" - -It was quite ten o'clock when Beatrice left the house. She was -dressed in her best street gown, with dainty hat and gloves to match. -As she closed the door behind her, Francis Lindsay was just coming -out of his uncle's gate. He lifted his hat to her, and then crossed -the street. "I hope Miss Billy isn't ill?" he inquired, with a shade -of constraint in his manner. "I've heard, you see, of the child -garden being discontinued to-day." - -"No, she is not ill," answered Beatrice, feeling with embarrassment -the colour creeping into her cheeks. "If I could only get over this -silly habit of blushing every time a stranger speaks to me," she -thought angrily,--and then blushed more furiously than ever. - -There was nothing to do but walk along, and Francis, who evidently -also was on his way down town, walked with her. He talked pleasantly, -but Beatrice's replies were sadly disconnected. - -"He noticed me blush," she kept thinking hotly. "No doubt he is -conceited enough to attribute it to his own personal charms!" - -She welcomed the first store as an avenue of escape, and bade him -good-morning. "He has just spoiled my day," she thought, as she -tossed over silk stockings and lace handkerchiefs in a flurry. "I'm -always making myself ridiculous!" - -But the zest of shopping came back to her, and she visited store -after store, looking at pretty, dainty, feminine things, feeling her -money always safe in her pocket, and knowing exactly what she should -be weak enough to buy in the end. But it was nearly three o'clock in -the afternoon, and she was feeling tired and a little dishevelled and -very hungry, before she came to the Mecca of her wanderings. - -It was a fashionable shoe-store, and in the very centre of the -show window hung a fascinating pair of little red satin slippers, -with Louis Quinze heels. Beatrice shut her eyes and grappled with -temptation. "I haven't a thing that's suitable to go with them," she -argued to herself. "In fact, I believe they would be out of place -anywhere but in a French dressing room. But they are so sweet and -dainty with their beautiful little gilt heels----" - -She opened the door and went in. The place was filled with customers, -but a bustling salesman came forward and smiled into Beatrice's -pretty flushed face. Yes, certainly, he would take them out of the -show window. They were the only pair in stock,--a sample pair. He -tried one of the satin slippers on Beatrice's dainty foot, and -stepped back to admire the effect. "They are a perfect fit," he -exclaimed. - -"Yes," said Beatrice. They pinched her toes a little, but she would -not wear them often. "Five dollars, did you say?" Then she should -have to wait for the silk hose to match. She had hoped they would not -be more than four. She pondered a moment, and then decided aloud, -"I'll take them." - -The salesman hurried away to put them in their box, and Beatrice, -looking around for the first time, encountered the keen glance of a -pair of dark eyes at the opposite counter. It was Francis Lindsay. - -There was one dismayed moment,--then she hastily averted her glance -without bowing in recognition. "He has watched me buy those silly -slippers," she thought, growing red and white by turns. "He has -stood there watching me admire myself in them. His eyes were full of -unutterable things. Oh, I just--hate him!" - -She glanced into the long mirror opposite, and it reflected back a -figure from which all the morning daintiness had fled. Her boots -were dusty, her gloves gaping at the fingers. The jaunty hat was -awry;--her face was flushed, and burned with fatigue and heat. - -The salesman returned with the package, and Beatrice gave him the -five-dollar bill. She hastily left the store, and, still with averted -eyes, bumped into the very person she was seeking to avoid. - -"I beg your pardon," he said, raising his hat. "It was my -awkwardness. I stopped to raise my umbrella. You see it rains a -little." Then noticing that she carried no umbrella, and that she -was looking very tired, he asked kindly, "Are you going home?" - -"I think I am ready for home," answered Beatrice, trying to keep the -tears out of her voice. "I've been down town since ten o'clock----" -She stopped suddenly, the absurdity of the statement coupled with the -single package of which he had relieved her, appealing to her with -full force. - -"But you've had luncheon?" - -"I am not at all hungry," declared Beatrice perversely. She was very -near to tears, and she felt that another question on his part might -precipitate them. - -"This is the very time to have you taste the German cake they call -'puffer,' and which can be had only in this shop," said Francis,--and -almost before she knew it he had led the way into a caterer's, and -a neat little maid was taking an order for iced chocolate and the -German sweet-bread. - -"What would father say?" she thought despairingly. "What will Miss -Billy say? What shall I say to myself, to-morrow?" But for the -present she was strangely content to sit in restful retirement -opposite this grave dark-eyed young fellow, Mr. Schultzsky's -grand-nephew, and satisfy her hunger with the iced chocolate and -delicious German cake. - -[Illustration: She was telling him the history of the day.] - -Strangely, too, in a few moments she was telling him the history -of the day, and Francis was laughing heartily. "That accounts for -the oddity of Miss Billy's actions," he declared. "I saw her riding -on the top of an empty omnibus, clad in the sombre disguise of a -raincoat. But she evidently didn't care if I knew her, for she waved -her hand to me from her elevated perch." - -Beatrice was too tired to be horrified. "I knew she would do -something dreadful," she said, "but I, certainly, shall offer no -criticism." - -It was a tired little family group that gathered in the minister's -study that night. - -"I had no idea," said Theodore, from the couch, "that it used a -fellow up so to have a gay time. I took dinner at the 'Alhambra,' -ordering the best the place afforded, only cutting out the wines. -That cost me two dollars, and I tipped the waiter with a quarter. -Then I took a cab to the horse show, and took in the matinee on the -way back. It cost me a dollar for a seat in the parquet. I didn't -have enough money left for supper, so I ate two mince pies at a -restaurant and I've got a nickel left." - -"Well," said Miss Billy, "it comes easier to tell my story since I've -heard Theodore's. I've always had the greatest desire to ride on the -top of an omnibus and look at things from that point of view. I knew -for appearance's sake I couldn't trundle back and forth from the -trains, so I hired a whole omnibus for myself, with a driver, to take -me out into the country. It was grand! It seemed as though the whole -world was unrolled before me! It gave me a feeling of being some -great bird flying through the air----" - -"A wild goose, for instance!" put in Theodore disgustedly. - -"Well I'm not an ostrich, anyhow, to eat all a hotel affords and two -mince pies on top of it!" retorted Miss Billy, with spirit. "That -omnibus ride cost me four dollars, but it was worth it. Then I bought -a box of chocolates and came home." - -"Now I suppose it's my turn," said the minister. "The first thing I -saw when I left the house this morning was a load of watermelons. -They were unusually fine melons, and the boy offered me the whole -wagon load dirt cheap." - -"Father!" broke in Miss Billy tragically, "what can I do with the -rinds of a wagon load of watermelons, to say nothing of the seeds? We -couldn't clean it up in weeks!" - -"I had an idea your mother pickled the rinds," said the minister -mildly. - -"Consider pickling a wagon load of watermelon rinds," groaned -Beatrice. "Beside, papa, we don't pickle the shell!" - -"Cease your lamentations," said Theodore, with a wave of his hand. "I -see in this the nucleus of a great business enterprise, that shall -live, flourish and spread,--and shall be known in the future as the -'Lee Pickle Works.' I shall be president, father can be buyer, and -Miss Billy and Bea can do the pickling." - -"Well," went on the minister, "I'm glad now I didn't buy the -melons,--but it was certainly a temptation, they were such fine -ones. The next thing I seemed to fancy was a buggy robe,--just five -dollars,--so warm, and handsome, too, in the brown and gold colours -your mother likes. But I happened to remember we didn't have a buggy, -so I gave that up." - -"This seems to be all about the things father didn't buy," said -Theodore astutely. "He's giving us mild shocks, so we can bear the -climax of what he did buy." - -"I assure you I ran the gamut of temptations," said the minister. "At -two o'clock I had about decided on a bull terrier pup. At three I was -discussing the merits of a newfangled washing machine. But I finally -ended it all by wandering into a fashionable photograph gallery and -sitting for a picture, in the latest style. It will not be finished -till next week, though." - -There was great clapping of hands as this recital was finished. -"Motherie next," called Miss Billy. - -"I have no story to relate," protested Mrs. Lee. "Knowing exactly -what I wanted, I went straight and bought it. Five dollars' worth of -pots, kettles and pans. I haven't had any new kitchen utensils since -our tenth wedding anniversary, and Maggie and I were at our wits' end -with leaky vessels." - -"You broke the contract!" said Theodore, pointing an accusing finger. -"Kitchen utensils cannot be classed as a personal whim." - -"Indeed they can! You will think so when you see them!" returned his -mother laughingly. "They are of every shape, size and description. At -first I thought of buying you all pretty silver pins, and having the -date inscribed as a memento of a day of experiences. But thinking you -might not consider that fair, I took the pans." - -"Last but not least," announced Theodore oratorically, "Beatrice will -tell us the experiences that befell a beautiful damsel in search of a -personal whim." - -Beatrice coloured slightly, but did not raise her eyes from her -hemstitching. - -"There is very little to tell, and it is very foolish. I've fancied a -pair of satin slippers in Frothingham's show window for a long time. -Such gay little things, with the dearest heels,--so I went and bought -them." - -"Oh," said Miss Billy disappointedly, "is that all? Didn't you meet -with any experiences quite unlike other days,--see new people, and -get other views? Didn't anything new come into your life?" - -Beatrice bent her head lower over her work. "No," she answered, -"nothing new." - - - - -CHAPTER XX - -FAIR SKIES - - "Cæsar himself could never say - He got two victories in one day." - - -"DO you know, Ted," said Miss Billy, as they took their way to school -together one morning in late September, "this air makes me feel like -cutting civilisation entirely and taking to the wide prairies, where -I can stick feathers in my hair, ride a bare-backed pony, and never -hear another dreary platitude of Pope or Dryden's nor bother my -head about the difference between the hieroglyphic and the hierotic -characters on the Egyptian obelisks." - -"Well, I wouldn't be surprised at anything you might do," said -Theodore, "and I know it would be done exhaustively. But what's the -matter with school? I thought you liked it." - -"Oh, it's not school, altogether. It's everything. It's -life,--civilised life,--with all its little petty trials and -meannesses. Now here is Miss Peabody's school that we have to -pass,--the hall of the select and the home of the cultured,--an Eden -from which I have been driven, to judge from the manner of some -of the girls when I go by. Of course, I could go round the other -way, but I just won't! I march past with my head up and my colours -flying,--they give me the iciest bows,--I return them a mere sweep of -my eyelashes,--and the thing is over for the day. But it rankles and -hurts, and makes me miserable in spite of myself." - -"I have been enduring that sort of thing for two months," said -Theodore. "I am becoming cheerfully resigned to it. Whenever I meet -those girls in a crowd together, they have an interesting letter to -bend their heads over, or something of that kind, and at the very -last moment one or two will look up and give me a half-frightened -bow, and I raise my hat with dignity to Miss Peabody's cupola, or -some other equally lofty object, and walk on. Of course, I understand -Myrtle Blanchard is at the bottom of it all. She's paying back an old -score." - -Miss Peabody's Select Seminary for Young Ladies, which they were -approaching, was a handsome building in grey stone, with an imposing -iron fence, and a square of well-kept lawn strewn with garden seats, -on which "the select" were even now gathered. Miss Myrtle Blanchard -was there, and as she saw Miss Billy and Theodore coming, she rose, -in company with two other of the most popular girls, and advanced to -the gate. - -"You don't suppose they are meaning to speak to us," gasped Miss -Billy in amazement. "Why, those three girls have been the ringleaders -of the whole thing!" - -Evidently the young ladies did mean to speak to them. They advanced -with outstretched hands, and Miss Myrtle hooked on to Miss Billy's -arm, while the other two engaged Theodore. - -"Why in the world don't you ever come to see me," said Miss Myrtle, -with an expostulatory little shake. "But there,--I know the reason. -You are so carried away with Cherry Street that you haven't a thought -for old friends! Oh, I know all about it, Miss Billy.--You needn't -deny it! I've heard all about your Improvement Club, and the social -you gave, and everything. Maude and Blanche wrote in their last -London letter that slumming was more fashionable than ever, there." - -"Yes?" said Miss Billy, looking meaningly at Theodore,--but Miss -Myrtle was not to be so lightly shaken off. - -"Margaret Van Courtland tells me she is a member of your Club,--and -that elegant young college man, Mr. Lindsay, too, that the girls are -raving over. Why didn't you let me know about it this summer? I've -been just aching to help somebody. I want you to put my name down -right away for membership. Maude and Blanche will want to join when -they come, I know. They'll love to belong to anything Margaret Van -Courtland is connected with. They just adore her,--and they'll enjoy -slumming." - -"It isn't slumming," said Miss Billy, with repressed indignation. -"It's just a little neighbourhood affair, and we are all on perfectly -equal terms." - -"Call it what you will, only let me belong! Remember now,--you've -promised!" And with a final squeeze to the imprisoned arm, and a -brilliant smile for Theodore, Miss Myrtle and her companions happily -retraced their steps to the sacred confines of the Seminary. - -"Hold me up till my shattered nerves are restored," murmured -Theodore. "They almost ate me up!" - -"Miss Myrtle has an axe to grind, but she shall not grind it on my -grindstone," said Miss Billy resolutely. "She has a misty idea that -I've become fashionable and quite the thing, and that she's not in -it. She called our Improvement work 'slumming,' and wants to join our -club. Imagine her condescending to Mr. Hennesy, or Marie Jean, or Mr. -Schultzsky, or in short, any of them! And yet, Theodore, I'm such a -miserably weak character, I couldn't help being glad I had on my real -lace collar when she was talking to me." - -"Well," said Theodore, "the tables have at last turned,--and -strangely enough, through our friends in Cherry Street. You wakened, -as it were, to find yourself famous, Miss Billy." - -"Nonsense!" said Miss Billy. "I gave her distinctly to understand -that every member of the Improvement Club was a friend of mine,--but -of course she is too shallow to understand it. Still, our relations -with many of the girls will be less strained now, because of her -friendliness, and that is something to be thankful for." - -The Blanchard trap stood at the door of the High School that -afternoon, when school was dismissed. Miss Myrtle herself, in a -natty green coat with a scarlet collar, and a red Tam o' Shanter, -sat high on the box with the reins in her hands. - -"I have come for you both, to drive," she smiled. "This is our new -trap. Don't you admire the red paint and the shining wheels? I know, -now we have it, I shall bore you with attentions, but I don't expect -to take 'no' for an answer." - -"Ted," murmured Miss Billy, "I shall have to feed you to the lions. -Providentially, here is Margaret with her cart to take me." - -"I refuse to be fed," said Theodore firmly. "I've got to go up town -and order some things for mother. Get into the trap yourself,--and -I'll go with Margaret." - -So Miss Billy was obliged to climb into the seat beside Miss Myrtle, -while Theodore, winding his long legs into the cart, took the reins -from Margaret's hand and with a sharp click to Patsy was off without -a backward glance. - -Margaret laughed. "Ted, you grow more like Billy every day. You -have the same way of waving the American flag, and reading the -Declaration of Independence, and having your rights. Now, don't go on -disliking Myrtle. For one thing, it's too much trouble. If you think -of her at all, think of her kindly, and, with a little practice, life -will be a summer sea." - -"No, sir!" said Theodore, flecking a fly off Patsy's back with the -whip. "When people stand on my corns, I propose to let them know it. -I found out who my friends were when I drove Mr. Hennesy's mules. It -was perfectly honourable work, you know, but not elegant. A fellow's -better off without fine-feather friends. He has the courage, then, to -be what he is,--and stands a better chance of amounting to something." - -"Well, I dare say you are right," said Margaret, "and if you are -not,--it would be impossible to make either you or Billy over, so -what's the use of arguing? Here is Brown's drug store. Will you step -out and give them this bottle, Ted? It will take some time to put up -the prescription, so tell them they may deliver it." - -Theodore's face changed. He was on the point of saying, "I don't -go to Brown's,"--but he would a little rather Margaret should not -know that story. After all, why should he not go? It certainly would -not improve Mr. Brown's opinion of his character if he avoided the -place. He gave the reins into Margaret's hand, took the bottle and -disappeared into the store. - -There were two or three customers being waited upon,--the clerks were -in their usual places,--Mr. Brown was at the desk. He took the bottle -to the prescription clerk. "When it is ready, send it up to Mr. Van -Courtland's," he said, and was turning away when Mr. Brown called him. - -"I have a letter here for you," he said, fumbling among the papers on -his desk, "that I had just written and was about to send. Yes,--this -is it,--merely asking you to call at the store." He opened the money -drawer, took out five dollars, and shoved it toward Theodore. "Mrs. -Thorpe found that bill a few days after you were there. It had -slipped under the lining of her purse. She has been away all summer, -so she only had an opportunity of returning it to me a day or two -ago." - -Mr. Brown was returning to his books, and Theodore took the bill -with heightened colour. "I hope, sir," he said, "that this entirely -establishes my honesty in your mind?" - -"I never doubted it," said Mr. Brown. "You took the affair a little -too hard. Remember, you discharged yourself. If you should want your -job back again next Spring, I'll try to let you have it. I don't -think you will ever lose another bill." - -"Thank you, sir," said Theodore, and passed out. He sprang into the -cart beside Margaret, and gave the astonished Patsy a vigourous slap -with the lines. - -"Why, what's the matter?" said Margaret. "Your eyes are as shiny, and -your cheeks as red----" - -"I don't mind telling you the story now," said Theodore. "I went into -that store wearing convict's stripes, figuratively speaking, and I've -come out without 'em. My character is cleared, but I've a notion it -will take some time for my shaved hair and my self-respect to grow -again." - - - - -CHAPTER XXI - -HALLOWE'EN - - "Never since the world began - Has been such repartee; - And never till the next begins - Will greater things be done by man - Than this same company." - - -"I'M going to have a party to-night," announced Theodore, coming into -the study on a morning in late October. Mrs. Lee and the two girls -looked up from their work in astonishment. "To-night!" they said in -chorus. - -"I think it's about my turn to 'entertain,'" went on Ted in a mock -aggrieved tone. "Father opened the house to the Guild last week, -mother had the Mothers' Meeting here yesterday, Beatrice has company -all the time, and I'm still picking peanut shells, left from Miss -Billy's Lawn Fête, out of the grass. Don't you think that I deserve a -'function' to-night?" - -"It seems to me that your arrangements are being made rather late in -the day," laughed Mrs. Lee. "One usually plans for a party a day or -two beforehand." - -"Not for this kind of an entertainment," explained Theodore. "This is -a sudden inspiration of mine--planned 'on the spur of the instant,' -as Mrs. Canary would say. If you'll let me use the gasoline range -to-night, that's all I'll ask. I'm going to give a pancake party." - -"What's a pancake party?" inquired Miss Billy. - -"Hist!" returned Theodore mysteriously. "'Tell it not in Gath, -publish it not in the streets of Ascalon,' is my motto. The ghosts -and the witches walk abroad to-night, and we shall fitly celebrate. -So much you shall know and no more. Miss Billy, if you offer to -make me a rarebit in your chafing dish to-night, I shall courteously -accept; and mother, a bottle of stuffed olives, three bunches of -radishes and a fruit cake would be delicate attentions on your part." - -"Whom are you going to invite?" asked Beatrice. - -"Oh, Margaret, of course, and Lindsay, and our friend John Thomas, -and I suppose Mary Jane." - -"But that won't make enough men to go around." - -"Oh, you and Mary Jane can divide Mr. Lindsay," said Ted carelessly. -"He's big enough to make two." - -Beatrice left the room, and Ted went to his father's desk, where he -laboured painfully over the following poetical effusion: - -"Theodore Lee would like to see you at his home on Friday. Please -come at eight, and do not wait to make yourself too tidy. For spells -and tricks are apt to fix your clothes in sad condition; and folks, -I ween, on Hallowe'en are not on exhibition." - - * * * * * - -Beatrice, coming downstairs at eight o'clock that evening, to assist -in receiving the guests, found Miss Billy seated on the hearth rug, -while Ted bedecked her hair with an artistic arrangement of feathers -pulled out of the duster. - -The elder sister looked disturbed. "Goodness!" she said. "Don't let -Ted do that. I hope you're not intending to wear those things." - -"Why not?" said Miss Billy carelessly. "The feather duster's -moulting, anyway." - -"It isn't the duster I'm thinking of. It's you. Why _will_ you be so -ridiculous before visitors?" - -"Oh, pshaw," exclaimed Miss Billy impatiently. "I'm doing it for fun. -The 'visitors' are only girls and boys." - -"Mr. Lindsay is twenty-four," replied Beatrice with dignity, "and I -am not a child." - -"Oh, ho!" jeered Ted, "you're both Methusalehs! Lindsay's got more -sense than most people of his age. He's more like sixteen than -twenty-four." - -Miss Billy had already removed the towering plumes. - - "I love my darling sister so - That I would much for her forego," - -she chanted. "There goes the door bell. Ted, you're the footman?" - -"By all the powers above!" exclaimed Ted, as he swung open the door -in mock ceremony. "Mr. Francis Lindsay, in a full suit of evening -clothes! Such splendour! I'm glad now I blacked my shoes. Miss Billy, -don't you wish you'd braved Bea's jeers and worn your ostrich tips?" - - "To the horror of all who were present that day - He uprose in full evening dress, - And with senseless grimaces endeavoured to say - What his tongue could no longer express," - -quoted Francis. "Am I or am I not to come in? Good-evening, Miss -Billy, good-evening, Miss Lee." - -Beatrice looked critically at the tall figure bending over her -sister's hand. In his evening clothes Mr. Schultzsky's grand-nephew -was a fine looking man, she owned to herself, and her voice was -unusually cordial as she added her greeting to Miss Billy's. - -At the stroke of eight Margaret appeared, and John Thomas soon -followed, in a high state of collar and excitement. "Mary Jane wasn't -ready to come with me," he announced cheerfully. "She was prinking -before the glass when I went by her room, and she said she couldn't -fix her hair. She'll be along." - -His prediction was verified by a faint jingle of the door bell. A -moment later Marie Jean's shrill voice was heard in the hall. "Oh, -thank you, Mr. Theodore, don't mention it, please. I'm _so_ sorry to -have kept you waiting. Where shall I lay my cloak?" The little group, -gathered round the first fall fire, fell apart to permit the entrance -of the last guest. - -It was Marie Jean, but transformed. She wore the trailing silk skirt, -and a bodice of showy pink taffeta, but the heavy frizzes were gone. -Her hair was parted as smoothly and evenly as Margaret's own, and -the German braids lent new character to her face. She glanced in -some surprise at Beatrice's simple grey-blue gown, and surveyed -Miss Billy's scarlet waist with disapproval. The plain elegance of -Margaret's tailor suit utterly escaped her, but her eyes brightened -as she beheld Francis' pearl studs. "He's got a genuine swallow -tail," she said to herself. "I'm glad I dressed up." - -"Come into the kitchen," announced the host, leading the way to the -rear of the house. "This is the scene of our operations. Lindsay, -how we are to manage such elegance as yours and Miss Marie Jean's, -I don't see. You'll have to be aproned, each one of you." He handed -Marie Jean and Margaret long gingham aprons, and then to the -amusement of all proceeded to array Francis' six foot length in one -of Bea's daintiest and most be-ruffled pinafores. - -"The gasoline stove is for the fudge, which you, John Thomas, will -find already mixed, in the pantry," continued Ted. "The range is -ready for the pancakes, which you, Francis, are to bake during your -leisure moments this evening. In the meantime, we will try what fate -has in store for us." - -There was a little thrill of expectation as Miss Billy and Theodore -appeared, bearing a tub partly full of water, with a number of -rosy cheeked apples floating on the surface. "Dive for your fate," -commanded Ted. "The red apples are for the girls, the yellow ones -for the boys. Your intended's name you'll find within." There was -a dashing and splashing after the little buoys of fate, and even -Beatrice and Marie Jean lost their dignity as the apples slipped time -after time from the inviting crunch of their teeth. Margaret secured -the first--a big red apple labelled "The Count," John Thomas drew -"Miss Billy," and Ted made a wry face as he read "Myrtle Blanchard" -on the yellow Baldwin that floated in his clutch. - -"Let's try the next test before we go to cooking," said Miss Billy, -producing a tray which held seven miniature ships. Each was made of -the half of an English walnut shell, and held an inch of wax taper in -its tiny hold. - -"Choose your colour," directed the hostess, "and launch your ship -on the sea of life. If the light burns steadily till the wax is all -melted, and the boat rides the waves safely, you are assured a long -and happy life. If two boats come together and continue to sail about -side by side their owners will pass much of their life together. Two -boats in collision means a quarrel. A boat that touches frequently at -the sides of the tub predicts many short voyages for the owner, but a -bold vessel that goes to the other side promises a life of adventure -and travel. All aboard!" - -One by one the small crafts were launched on the sea, and the owners -hung over the tub awaiting the result with eagerness. - -Margaret's capsized early in the course. Francis' and Marie Jean's -crept along side by side, Theodore's and John Thomas' collided, -and Miss Billy's travelled independently and speedily across the -tub despite the sly efforts of Ted to turn its course. There was -much teasing and laughing before the boats dropped their anchors. -Theodore, who carried the tub to the kitchen, returned with a small -iron vessel, a long-handled spoon, and a cup of water. - -"This is the truest test of fate," he announced. "The melted lead -dropped into the water will foretell every man's destiny with -neatness and despatch. Strike, while the iron--and lead--is hot. Your -turn first, 'oh rare pale Margaret.'" - -The group left the fudge to the mercy of the fire and surrounded -Theodore. The lead dropped into the cup of water, and Ted peeped -cautiously into the bottom. "The fates speak truly," he announced -solemnly. "It's a cabbage--thrown at your first concert, I suppose. -Miss Marie Jean, the next spoonful is for you. Here it is, but I'll -be switched if I know _what_ it is." - -John Thomas peered over his shoulder. "It's a hand glass," he -announced. - -"So it is," assented Ted. "I suppose you'll be a professional beauty -like Mme. de Staël or Maxine Elliott. You may take the lead for a -memento. Beatrice, step up to the front. Hail, all hail, you have -won--a man,--a nice big fellow with a football." - -"That must be you, Francis," said John Thomas, looking up at the tall -athlete at his side. - -Beatrice looked annoyed, and Francis' usually calm face reddened -suddenly. Miss Billy's quick wits detected confusion in the air, and -she stepped forward hastily. "Now me," she said. - -Theodore dropped a spoonful of lead in the water, and it sank with a -heavy thump. - -"The man with a hoe! Or perhaps it's Mr. Schultzsky with his crutch -instead," announced Ted. "This is for you, John Thomas--a nice round -dollar. That means that one of these days you'll have money instead -of lead to put in the fire.... Now Mr. Lindsay, leave your griddle -and behold." - -"A lead maiden!" said Margaret, as the metal hardened into a graceful -shape in the bottom of the cup. "A bride, I declare! See her bouquet." - -"Last but not least," announced Ted cheerfully, "is the fate of Mr. -Theodore Somers Lee, one of the most charming and delightful members -of our little circle. He deserves the best that the gods can provide. -What have we here? A book! I bet it's a Bible. I have always had -a secret longing for the life of a missionary. There's a cry from -Macedonia, and I shall turn out immediately." - -"It's more likely to be a bed than a Bible," announced Miss Billy -witheringly. "Then you'll turn in, not out." - -"Why is a boy pigeon-toed at night?" improvised Theodore. "Because he -turns in." - -There was a chorus of groans in reply. "That is the way we roast -chestnuts on Hallowe'en," said Francis wickedly. - -"Isn't it time to put on the pancakes?" said John Thomas. "The fudge -is almost done." - -"That's my work," said Francis. "Miss Billy, did you say there was a -ring in the batter? What is it for?" - -Miss Billy had brought out a bag of chestnuts, and was placing them -in a long row on the top of the stove. - -"The one who gets the ring is to be married first," she said. "But -we'll try the chestnut charm before the cakes are ready,--if you can -stand the smoke." - -"What is the test?" asked Margaret. - -"Name the two nuts," explained Ted, "one for yourself and one for -'your steady.' If they roast quietly and gently your affair will be -long and tranquil; if they burst or fly apart, there will be troubles -in the family." - -The circle of young people gathered closer, and watched the little -emblems of friendship. The fire crackled and burned brighter, and a -silence fell upon the room. One by one the chestnuts popped and flew -off, until only the two named by Miss Billy were left. They burned -quietly side by side until Francis pushed them, fully roasted, into -the owner's lap. - -"You are the happy one," he said. "For whom were they named?" - -"I shall never tell," declared Miss Billy. - -Four great stacks of smoking cakes were carried into the dining room, -where Miss Billy's chafing dish was already burning. Mrs. Lee had -evidently lent her assistance, for added to Theodore's menu was a -large plate of sandwiches and a pitcher of hot chocolate. - -The hungry people gathered around the table; and the brown pancakes, -covered with butter and smothered in maple syrup, received much -commendation. While they were at the table the doorbell rang. Mrs. -Lee, who had answered the bell, came into the dining room with a -large basket in her hand, and a puzzled expression on her face. - -"There was no one at the door," she said. "Only this basket. It has -your name on it, Wilhelmina." - -Miss Billy lifted the cover and peered in. "What on earth!" she -began. She lifted out a curious little package labelled "Miss -Margaret Van Courtland." "This is evidently for you," she said as -she peered in again. "But there are a whole lot of others. One for -each of us." She distributed the parcels to the party, while Margaret -dubiously opened the square bundle that had been handed to her. - -A small pasteboard box labelled "Burke's Peerage" was exposed to -view. The following poem accompanied it: - - "A maiden named Peggy Van C---- - Sailed far from New York State and me! - And she played the pianner, - And won prize and banner, - In ev'ry conservato-ree. - - "But my honest American name - She spurned to my sorrow and shame, - For she said 'I shan't marry - With Tom, Dick and Harry, - I'm looking for much higher game. - - "'With my excellent banking account - To royalty's height I may mount.' - She ran into her fate, - But discovered too late - He was called in Burke's book--no (a) count." - -"Congratulations, Ted," said Margaret. "I recognise your dainty touch -in this." - -Ted looked innocent. - - "Why should all blame and anger dread - Fall straight upon my luckless head?" - -he murmured. "John Thomas, I see you drew a prize. What is it?" - -John Thomas had been examining his parcel, and his face was very red. -He held up two scarlet hearts impaled on a long tin arrow. - -"I don't want to read the po'try," he said bashfully. - -"Oh, yes," begged Miss Billy. "Go on, John Thomas. What do _you_ -care? It's all in fun." - -The boy unfolded the paper obediently. - - "He lives next door to Billy Lee, - He smiles at her incessantly, - His name they say is Hennes-sy, - And John. - - "He little knows her temper bad, - He's never seen her when she's mad. - Misguided youth! His lot is sad,---- - Poor John." - -"Nonsense," said Miss Billy. "Your sentiments are as bad as your -poetry, Ted. What's yours, Bea?" - -Beatrice had a pair of huge scarlet carpet slippers, ornamented with -a large bow of ribbon. Theodore read the verses: - - "A pair of red slippers hung high in a shop, - Sing hey for the slippers so red! - And a maid passed that way and I saw the maid stop, - 'I'll buy me the slippers,' she said. - - "The pair of red slippers came down from the shelf, - Sing hey for the slippers so small! - And the maiden remarked, undertone, to herself, - 'They'll look awful swell at a ball.' - - "The pair of red slippers were jaunty and low, - Sing hey for the slippers so gay! - 'But I don't want buckles, I wanted a bow,' - I heard the maid woefully say. - - "The pair of red slippers were wrapped up and tied, - Sing hey for the pocketbook low! - And a youth who was near sauntered home at her side, - So the maid got the slippers and beau." - -Marie Jean unwrapped her package with an expectant expression. A -large beet, cut in half, and carefully stuck together with toothpicks -surrounded the following verse: - - "There's a secret in my heart, Sweet Marie, - A tale I would impart, love, to thee. - Every lad in Cherry Street - Kneels in ardour at thy feet, - You've a face that can't be beet, Sweet Marie." - -"I never heard such wretched puns," declared Margaret. "There's one -consolation,--there _can't_ be anything worse than that. What's -yours, Mr. Francis?" - -Francis bowed gallantly to Miss Billy. "Ladies first," he said. - -A small green watering pot was unrolled from a newspaper, and several -verses tumbled out. - - "Mistress Billy, - Pray don't be chilly! - How does your garden grow? - With beautiful posies - And lilies and roses, - And sunflowers all in a row. - - "Mistress Billy - I must rhyme--willy nilly,-- - How does your garden grow? - With small smiling faces - All found in their places - And little ones all in a row. - - "Mistress Billy, - Don't think me silly - Thus does your garden grow, - With hard work and duty - And sweetness and beauty, - And faith, hope, and love in a row." - -Miss Billy's voice shook a little as she finished reading, and there -was something suspiciously shiny in her eyes as she glanced at her -brother. But Ted was looking serenely the other way. - -Francis' package held a fat pocketbook labelled: - - "Sing a song of sixpence. - Pocketful of mon., - Rent day Francis has it all, - Cherry Street has none. - Never mind! His praises loud - Cherry Street doth sing-- - Francis may not be a count, - But he is a king." - -"Goodness!" said the reader, "I don't know whether I dare eat another -cake after that. I'm already bursting with _pride_; Miss Billy, -won't you share this with me?" He held out the last pancake on the -plate invitingly. Miss Billy's knife divided it evenly and a slender -circlet tinkled out on the dish. - -"The ring!" said Marie Jean. "You'll have to draw lots." - -"Or else share your fate," suggested Margaret. - -"Now me," said Ted in a tone of mock anticipation. "You haven't seen -my souvenir yet." He unrolled a box of French bonbons, and passed it -around the table, as he read: - - "There was a young person named Ted. - 'I'll write some fine doggerel,' he said. - But his verse read aloud - In the midst of the crowd - Was all pronounced mongrel instead." - -"And that's the truest one of all," said Margaret. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII - -WAITING - - "The strange white solitude of peace - That settles over all." - - -"IF it was anybody else but Miss Billy," sighed Mrs. Canary. - -Mrs. Hennesy pulled her shawl down over her swollen eyes, and made no -reply. - -"I've just been in there, an' her fever's higher. She just raved an' -tossed all night," went on Mrs. Canary. - -"I was on me way there, now," said Mrs. Hennesy,--"but I guess I'll -not go in, afther hearing how she is. Folks around a sick house is -only a clutter." - -"I know it,--but I can't hardly keep away. Seems as if I _must_ do -something fer that poor lamb, after all the times she's helped me, -takin' care of the childurn an' all. She's just worked herself to -death tryin' to keep Cherry Street clean, an' all this summer, that's -what she has,--an' no pertic'lar thanks fer it, neither." - -"I guess it's not all work that's done it," said Mrs. Hennesy -significantly. "It's that ould ciss-pool between us and the Lee's -that's been p'isoning her. The wondher is we're not all dead. And -afther all the times we've spoke about it to old man Schultzsky, too. -Well, I hope he'll mate his reward in the nixt wurld, if he don't in -this." - -"Do you know, they say he feels awful bad about it. Just walks 'round -like a hen on a hot griddle. Don't ask fer no news of her, but -just can't settle down easy anywhere. I should think he _would_ be -_prosterated_ with grief! An' he wouldn't be the only one! Everybody -on the street feels the same way. Her sickness has just cast a -shadder over everything. I never seen the beat of it." - -Mrs. Hennesy's broad Irish face grew almost beautiful in its -tenderness. "I feel like she was wan av me own," she said softly. -"No wan, not even the dear child herself, knows what she has done -for us! John Thomas hasn't spoke a word about the house for a wake. -Miss Billy has done wondhers for that bye. If you could see him -workin' over his lessons, an' tidyin' up the yard, an' trainin' up -the few bits of vines he's planted! An' Mary Jane, she didn't like -her at first, but sure her heart is broke now. As for Mr. Hennesy and -mesilf,--well, there's no way to tell how we feel about it." - -"I guess we're all mournin' together," said Mrs. Canary. "Mr. Canary -wouldn't tech fish fer dinner,--Holly Belle is all stuffed up with -tears, an' Friddie hangs round their door till I just expect Mis' -Lee'll throw water on him to git red of him. The children are all -a-prayin' for her ev'ry night, an' if God kin resest their innercent -pleadin' it's more'n I could do." - -"It's Cherry Street that's nadin' her more than Hivin does," said -Mrs. Hennesy. - -"I guess it does!" exclaimed Mrs. Canary fervently. "We can't do -without her. The children just fairly adore her image, the big boys -and girls all love her, and the fathers and mothers need her the most -of all. If she'd never done a thing fer us but to show that pretty -smile of hers, an' let us see her eyes shine, an' hear her sweet -voice, we'd miss her enough: but rememberin' all she _has_ done----" -Words failed the good woman, and her sentence ended abruptly. - -"I suppose there's not a thing a person could do to help," said Mrs. -Hennesy. - -"Not a thing. The house is full of flowers, and things to eat. -They've got a nurse that looks like striped stick candy, an' two -doctors, an' more offers of help than they know what to do with. -There ain't a thing _we_ can do but watch--an' pray. An' if the Lord -sees fit to call her Home----" - -But Mrs. Hennesy, drawing the shawl again over her eyes, turned away. - - * * * * * - -The mist of Indian summer lay like a veil over Cherry Street. Out -in the garden Miss Billy's flowers were still blooming. The vines -were breaking into crisp little tendrils about her window, the La -France rose bush was heavy with buds, and the grass was as green and -tender as when her feet had last pressed it. Miss Billy's friend, -the bulldog, slept serenely on the Lee porch, and her canary trilled -softly in the autumn sunshine. - -Life seemed to have vanished from the street itself. Down near the -Levi house two wooden saw-horses and a plank had been placed across -the road to block all traffic, and Policeman Canary paced back and -forth to ward off intruders. Grocery boys and butcher lads came and -went on foot, and the children who played in the back yards were -hushed and subdued by watchful parents "for Miss Billy's sake." -Silence reigned everywhere, and the chirping of the twittering -sparrows, that _could_ not be hushed, was the only sound that broke -the stillness. - -Upstairs, in the little green room, where the only movement was -the stirring of the thin curtains in the soft wind, lay the girl -herself. The active feet were quiet, the busy hands were folded and -the dancing eyes were closed. There was nothing about the passive -figure that was like Miss Billy. Even the mass of copper-brown hair -had been cut away. But this death-like stupor was less terrifying -than the intervals of raging fever in which Miss Billy laughed, sang -and talked, and lived over and over again her girlish trials and -hopes and fears. - -"It's such hard work," she would say, tossing restlessly from side -to side in the little bed. "Such hard work! Mr. Schultzsky, it's a -lie, I tell you. He didn't hit your horse, I saw it all! It's a lie, -I tell you. I didn't mean to hurt you! It's my fault, though, not -Ted's!... Oh, Ted, you didn't need to step on my grass seed. Why -won't you let things grow? It's so hot, so hot, here. Beatrice, you -needn't be so mean! He's a friend of mine. Why won't you be kind to -him? Please do, please do. He's helped me so." - -Then the busy brain would go back to the old life: - -"Myrtle Blanchard called us poor. I don't want to be poor. I hate it. -I hate Cherry Street! I hate heat! I'm _so_ tired!" - -It was when the fever was at its height that the family first guessed -the depth of Miss Billy's feeling, for in her delirium she talked -wildly of wanting to go back "home," away from Cherry Street, to -where everything was "quiet and clean." She longed for Margaret's -home-coming, and begged piteously that the Blanchards might not "come -in." And then the wild look would disappear, and she would drop back -on the pillow with the same old pathetic cry: "I'm so tired. _So_ -tired." - -So day after day passed. Delirium, restlessness, pain and weakness -filled Miss Billy's waking hours, and the only peace came when -she sank into a deep stupor, which was almost as fearful to the -watchers. The work of the Improvement Club had been abandoned. Ted -applied himself industriously to school, and Beatrice found her only -comfort in doing housework that gave her no time to think, and left -her so physically tired at night that sleep came, after all. Mrs. -Van Courtland almost lived at the house, and Margaret, Francis and -John Thomas came daily, to hear the reports and bring comfort and -help. The members of the Child Garden hung about the gate, begging -for news, Mrs. Hennesy waylaid the doctor each morning, and Mrs. -Levi sent Moses to the door with a new dainty every day. The life -on Cherry Street seemed to centre about the one small room in the -old-fashioned house, and the whole street waited and hoped while the -autumn sped, and Miss Billy grew no better. - -It was after one of the worst days that Beatrice crept out of the -room, with her heart full, and her eyes overflowing with tears. She -felt her way blindly downstairs, and almost bumped into Francis, who -was standing in the dark hall. - -"I didn't ring," he said. "How _is_ the little girl?" - -Beatrice sat down on the stairs, and grasped the railing tightly as -though its dumb wood could offer her some help and support. - -"Worse," she said. - -Francis' face looked his sympathy. - -"_How_ is she worse?" he asked. - -"She's been raving for two hours. Dr. Lane has sent for Dr. Howitt. -Her temperature has never been so high." - -"Is she in great--danger?" - -Beatrice nodded. "They don't say so, but----" Her voice failed her. - -"Is there anything I can do?" - -"Not a thing. The nurse is there, and mother and father don't leave -her for an instant. She doesn't even need me. If there was anything -to be done,--but to sit and wait is so awful!--I'm going down now to -make a cup of tea for mother. She looks like a ghost." - -"And so do you, poor little girl." He laid his strong brown hand over -the small white one on the railing. Beatrice sat still for a moment, -and then, laying her head on her arm, cried her heart out. - -"I can't give her up," she sobbed wildly. "I can't! I can't! I never -knew before what she was to me. And all this summer when she has been -toiling away over her children and the weeds and the street, I have -sat and criticised, and discouraged her. I have been so selfish, so -small and so mean! Oh, I don't deserve to have Miss Billy, but if she -lives, I'll love God all my life. I can't spare her now." - -Francis laid his hand softly upon the bowed golden head, and waited -until the paroxysm of sobs had passed. - -"I can't tell you how sorry I am," he said gently. "I love Miss -Billy, too, you know. But there is nothing for us to do but wait -and--hope. I shan't give up yet. Come down with me and let me make -you the tea. You need it as much as your mother." - -The night came down softly on Cherry Street. The shadows deepened and -the silver crescent of the new moon appeared in the sky. Dr. Howitt -arrived and went immediately to the sick room. The nurse passed -through the hall with a glass of wine. Supper was announced, and was -cleared away untasted. Beatrice and Theodore sat silently in the -study. At nine o'clock the nurse came down the stairs again. - -"Mrs. Lee says for you both to go to bed. She will call you if -there's the slightest change. If you can get any sleep, so much the -better. And Mr. Theodore, there's a boy out in the yard." - -Beatrice obediently followed the nurse upstairs, and Ted went quietly -out of the door. A dark figure could be dimly seen striding up and -down in the faint light cast from Miss Billy's room. Theodore rounded -the porch, and stopped the shadowy form in its march. It was John -Thomas. - -"How is she?" he whispered. - -Ted shook his head despairingly, without a word. - -"You'd better go to bed," said John Thomas. - -"So had you," returned Ted. - -"I can't sleep," exclaimed the figure. - -Ted turned stiffly. "Neither can I," he said. His feet seemed to -tangle in the wet grass as he walked toward the house again. - -"So long," said John Thomas hoarsely. - -"So long," returned Theodore. - -A restless sleep had just fallen on Theodore when there was a light -rap on the door. "Come," said the nurse. "There is a change. Your -mother has sent for you. As quiet as possible, please." The boy flung -on his bath robe, and hurried into the hall. Beatrice had just come -out from her room. The sister and brother clasped hands and went on -together. - -In Miss Billy's room the light had been turned very low. Dr. Howitt -had gone. The family doctor stood near the window. Mr. Lee sat by the -bedside with a look upon his worn face that the children had never -seen. His wife was on her knees, with one of the pale hands clasped -in her own, as though the mother's grasp would hold the child in -spite of Death. A soft grey shadow seemed to have fallen over Miss -Billy's face, and she lay in deep stupor. - -The little group gathered around the bed, and waited. The minutes -slowly passed, Miss Billy's small clock ticking them off with an -intensity that was almost painful. - - * * * * * - -The grey light began to grow in the eastern window, and a soft breeze -blew in from the lake. The glimmer of the lamp paled as the room grew -lighter. Afar off a dog barked, and one of Mr. Hennesy's roosters -heralded the coming of the new day. The first glow of red light had -appeared in the sky, when Miss Billy moved slightly in the bed. - -"Mother," she whispered. Then she opened her eyes wide, with a hint -of the old-time smile. "Has the morning come?" she asked. "I've had -bad dreams." - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII - -CONCLUSION - - "Against the whiteness of the wall - Be living verdure seen,-- - Sweet summer memories to recall, - And keep your Christmas green." - - -ALL through the long hot summer months Miss Billy had been doing what -she could for Cherry Street. Now Cherry Street was doing what it -could for Miss Billy. - -"Grass, is it, she'd be afther loikin' to see, whin she gits up?" -said Mr. Hennesy. "Sure an' we're ploughin' good sod undher iv'ry day -av our lives,--loads av it. John Thomas, see that ye bring home a -wagon load of it 'ach noight, an' O'il be doin' the same." - -John Thomas brought the sod, and the street fell to with a will. Dusk -fell earlier than in the summer, but there was still time left after -the day's labour was over and the supper cleared away. The children -dug and raked the hard soil, and the men rolled the velvety sod into -strips of green parking bordering the sidewalks, and spread it into -green lawns in their own dooryards. The enthusiasm spread like a -fever. Aaron Levi's father brought home a can of paint, and began -experimentally to turn his shabby brown house into a white house with -green blinds. The street beheld, and hurried to do likewise, scarcely -waiting for Francis' assurance that every cent of expense should be -taken off the rent. Every house was freshly painted,--and because the -underlying thought was of Miss Billy, and because they thought she -would like it so, they painted uniformly white, with green blinds. - -Besides all this, down the middle of the street a score of men, day -after day, threw up the rocky soil into long mounds, and at last -the sewer pipe that was to connect with every dwelling, was laid, -with all Cherry Street looking into the hole, as if it had been -the dedication of a church. No more cesspools and typhoid fever for -Cherry Street! It had been too near to losing Miss Billy. But Mr. -Schultzsky would have made the concession for none other. - -The Street Improvement Club, cast at first into the depths of despair -at their brave little captain's grave illness, and raised now to -heights of enthusiasm by her convalescence, were everywhere! Chewing -gum wrappers were voted a nuisance: Paper bags were frowned upon: -Banana skins were not to be tolerated: Tomato cans were a crime! -Everywhere over the street presided a new goddess,--the Goddess of -Cleanliness,--while the girl who had wrought the change lay in the -little green room, being slowly nursed back to life. - -It was after the Improvement Club, under the advice of Francis, had -taken the proceeds of the lawn social from the little tin box, and -invested it in young shade trees, that proudly skirted the sidewalks -twenty feet apart, that Francis snapped his final picture from the -head of the street. After it was developed he compared it to that -other taken on the August morning. The results appeared to satisfy -him. "They are an object lesson," he said, "fit to point a moral or -adorn a tale," and he mailed them in a big official looking envelope -to "Peter Hanson, Florist,--New York,--Prize Street Competition." - -It was this very day, too, that Miss Billy was placed in an easy -chair, and taken to the window for the first time since her illness. -"Oh, it's such a green world, motherie mine; such a beautiful, sunny, -green world, that it hurts my eyes. And--why--but everything wasn't -all green like that when I went to bed. What can have happened!" - -"That is enough for to-day," said the nurse authoritatively, and -Miss Billy was put back to bed. But she had caught a glimpse of -Mr. Schultzsky's house, and it was painted white!--Of the little -Bohemian maid swinging placidly to and fro in the rocking chair on -an immaculate little white porch!--Of a stretch of restful green -grass, where before had been weeds!--and right in the middle of the -front yard had bloomed a huge tub of scarlet geraniums! ("She will -like to see that," Francis had said,--and through the long beautiful -fall which stretched into December, he had placed a covering over the -flowers every night to protect them from possible frosts.) Miss Billy -had seen, and two hectic spots of excitement burned on her cheeks. - -"Cherry Street is remodelled, inside and out," said Mrs. Lee gently. -"Francis has made Mr. Schultzsky see the expense of it in the -light of a sound business proposition, and the rest of it has been -done by the people themselves, for love of you. But there, little -daughter,--it's nothing to cry about!" - -"I'm not crying," said Miss Billy valiantly, the big tears chasing -each other down her cheeks. "Don't you see that I'm laughing, and -happy, and thankful? Oh, it is so nice to come back to this dear, -beautiful world!" - -There were informal receptions held in the little green room as she -grew daily stronger. Marie Jean, still with the trailing dresses, but -with the heavy frizzes forever gone,--John Thomas, freckled of face -and worshipful, alert to Miss Billy's slightest wish,--Mr. Hennesy, -brimful of cheer and whimsical philosophy,--Mrs. Hennesy, overflowing -with kindness and neighbourly apologies,--Mr. Schultzsky, stoical, -yet changed,--Holly Belle, who whispered with shy blushes that beside -her finger exercises Miss Margaret had given her a "piece," with -variations: and every day Margaret and Francis, and the members of -the Improvement Club, who sat about and gazed at Miss Billy restored -to them and were thankful. - -It was the eighteenth of December when the first snow came sifting -down. It covered the green lawns, and wrapped the young shade trees, -and whitened the roofs of the little white houses. And not till then -did Cherry Street remember that summer was gone and Christmas was -near. - -"We'll have a Christmas tree big enough for everybody," said -Theodore. "John Thomas and I will go out and buy the largest we can -find, and set it up in the parlour." - -"Oh, it will be fine," said Margaret, clapping her hands. "Let us get -at it right away." - -The Christmas tree was brought, a noble fir,--and set up in the -corner of the parlour amidst much bustle and confusion and laughter. -John Thomas popped the corn, Miss Billy threaded it in whitened -strings, Francis tacked up the evergreen boughs and holly, while -Beatrice assisted,--a pretty picture with the heavy foliage held high -above her head, and her sleeves falling away from her white arms. -Margaret, in the kitchen, was aiding Maggie in making the cherished -Christmas "pfeffernes," and as the little German cakes baked, the -sweet spicy smell filled the air. - -Theodore, on a stepladder, was hanging the mistletoe. "It smells -Christmassy already," he announced hungrily. "Why doesn't Margaret -make a bushel of those things? I could eat all she has there at one -bite. Marie Jean, just hand me up a bit of that red ribbon, will you?" - -Marie Jean's long arm stretched up the ladder, and Theodore leaned -down. There was a resounding smack, and Marie Jean, with a scream of -agitation, tripped over a rug and fell headlong into the arms of the -Christmas tree. - -"Land o' love!" she ejaculated, extricating herself from the -branches. "Theodore Lee, I've a mind to slap you." - - "The mistletoe hung in the castle hall, - The holly branch shone on the old oak wall," - -recited Theodore, putting as much feeling as he could into it without -swallowing the tacks in his mouth. "Marie Jean, I expect to slay my -thousands under this thing. But if you'd like to slap me, you can -come again and try it." - -"No, thanks," said Marie Jean, settling her ruffled plumage with -dignity. - -"Now," went on the irrepressible Theodore, "if good Kris Kringle -will only hang a wig on the Christmas tree for Miss Billy,--nothing -expensive or rich, of course, like her own hair was--but----" - -Involuntarily Miss Billy's hands flew up to her shorn locks, but John -Thomas came sturdily to the defence. - -"Miss Billy's a heap prettier with her hair short like that, and -curling all over her head in little rings. She wasn't half so pretty -when it was long." - -"John Thomas," said Theodore, with a pitying stare, "it's my opinion -that you would think Miss Billy handsome if she was as bald as a -Chinese mandarin. It's a prominent symptom of the disease." - -John Thomas returned abruptly to his popcorn, and Miss Billy, in the -absence of anything better, and with a flash of the old time fire in -her eyes, threw a handful of popcorn at the tormentor. - -"Perhaps you would like to sample these cakes," said Margaret, -standing floury and smiling in the doorway, with a plate in her -hand. "Francis, it is less than six months ago that you and I sat in -the mud of a side street in Cologne, while a rain of these lovely -little cakes fell about our devoted heads. I little thought I should -be making some for you at Christmas time." - -"We cannot foretell the future," said Theodore solemnly. "Next -Christmas--who knows?--we may all be in 'der faderland,' honourable -attachees of the household of the Count and Countess Lindsay. Miss -Billy can be 'lady in waiting,' and hold up your sky-blue green -pink train, Margaret,--and John Thomas can be Buttons at the front -door----" - -"The last five months have certainly been an unexpected and pleasant -experience for me," interrupted Francis. "But play time is over. I -shall be off for New York Saturday." - -"To stay--forever?" appealed Miss Billy piteously. "Oh, Francis,--I -can't spare you." - -There were tears in her eyes, and he took the small white hand -between his own brown palms. - -"Not forever, Miss Billy," he said gently. "I hope to come back -again,--many times; and some of the goodness, and brightness, and -helpfulness of Cherry Street shall always be with me, wherever I am." - -"And I," said Margaret, with a little sigh, "shall return to Cologne -next month; I, too, shall miss Cherry Street, but nothing shall -sadden me now that Billy is well." - -"I have a lump in my throat as I dwell upon the inevitableness of -human destiny," said Theodore. "But honestly, Lindsay, we shall miss -you. As for you, Margaret, - - "Maid of _Col_-ogne, ere we part, - Give, O give me back my heart." - -"You gave it to Marie Jean the night of the lawn social," rejoined -Margaret promptly. "I didn't want it, you know,--it was so warm and -sticky." - -"And I didn't know what to do with it, so I ate it," said Marie Jean, -with a giggle. "I remember it was flavoured with peppermint." - -"Cannibal!" murmured Theodore,--and lapsed into injured silence. - -Beatrice and Francis had returned to the holly wreaths. "We shall be -sorry to have you go," she said, her eyes on the branches in her lap. -"What you said about Cherry Street made me want to cry. I, certainly, -in the past, have not been a part of the goodness and brightness -and helpfulness. Before you go, let me tell you I am sorry for -everything." - -"And I am glad." He took from her lap as he spoke a bit of the holly -and broke it in two. "Keep this," he said, "and I shall keep the -other half, 'sweet summer memories to recall,'--till I come again." - -Christmas eve fell softly upon Cherry Street wrapped in its snowy -mantle, with a pale silver moon like a crescent of promise, shining -low down in the west. - -"When I saw it last," said Holly Belle, "it was over my left -shoulder, and I thought Miss Billy was goin' to die." - -"An' I heard the death tick in the wall," said Mrs. Canary, "an' -dreampt of white horses three nights hand runnin'. I never knew the -signs to fail before." - -"Signs can't hurt Miss Billy," said Holly Belle with conviction, as -she hastened the little Canarys into their holiday attire. "She don't -believe in 'em--nor dream books, nor nothin'. An' I ain't a-goin' to -after this, neither." - -"Holly Belle," said Mrs. Canary impressively, "the night yer -grandfather died I was a sittin' there by the window----" - -"I don't care," broke in Holly Belle stoutly: ("Fridoline, hold up -yer chin! How can I fasten yer necktie when yer leanin' it down like -that!)--I don't care fer all the old signs in the world. Miss Billy -don't believe in 'em, an' I ain't a-goin' to, neither." - -In the Hennesy home, Mr. Hennesy had brought out the ancient coat, -and was struggling into one of John Thomas's collars. It was fastened -at last, and Mr. Hennesy regarded his appearance in the glass with -interest. "All Oi do be nadin'," he commented, "is a check rein -from the top av me head to me shoulder blades, to make me be lookin' -loike a four-year-old colt. John Thomas, wan av these days whin ye go -to bite off a bit av tough mate, ye'll hit on wan av these aidges an' -cut yer jugglery vein. Moind now, what O'im sayin'." - -[Illustration: "All Oi do be nadin'" ... "is a check rein from the -top av me head to me shoulder blades."] - -At Number 12 Cherry Street there was warmth and light and glow. -Out in the kitchen the smiling Maggie presided over two boilers of -coffee and a table full of iced cakes and confections. As the guests -began to arrive the folding doors between the minister's study and -the parlour were thrown open, and the Christmas tree, glowing with -coloured balls and wax tapers, stood revealed. The Street Improvement -Club, to a man, greeted the glittering spectacle with delight, -but the ecstasy of some of the younger members became suddenly -extinguished in their mothers' skirts at the sudden appearance of an -exceedingly corpulent Saint Nicholas in the parlour door. - -"Ladies and Gentlemen,--Members of the Street Improvement Club and -Fellow Citizens:" began the jolly Saint, keeping his whiskers applied -with one hand, and gesticulating gracefully with the other;--"Owing -to a stringency in the money market, this tree is mostly made up -of tarlatan bags containing nuts, candy and popcorn, with verses -of excellent poetry thrown in. You will observe that the greater -share of the gifts seem to be for the children, and for young ladies -between the ages of sixteen and twenty,--but there are a few trinkets -for all, and plenty of good will beside." - -Here the good Saint paused, and was obliged to hold on his whiskers -with both hands, and he viewed the facial contortions of Ikey Levi, -who wanted to cry and was afraid the Saint might not like it. - -"I find here, attached to one of the most prominent branches," went -on Saint Nicholas, "a charming female savage in a short skirt and -a feather head-dress. It is marked 'for Marie Jean Hennesy, from -Theodore L--.' It also bears this inscription: - - "This tender maid of dusky shade, - Eats lovers' hearts,--beware! - She'll take them raw, like cabbage slaw, - Or overdone or rare. - -"Will Miss Hennesy step up to receive her gift? I regret that Mr. -Theodore cannot be with us this evening to receive his thanks in -person. - -"Here also, is a beautiful toy omnibus, from the same benevolent -source, with a pair of spirited horses attached, and a handsome -driver atop. It is marked 'Miss Billy,' and the following tender -verse accompanies it: - - "A maiden once reasoned her thus-- - 'I think I shall hire a whole bus:' - She rode on the top, and the people did stop - And declared that it couldn't be wuss! - -"I regret that I do not find a snuff box on the boughs for Herr -Lindsay. In its absence I shall beg him to accept the trifling gift -of this tin trumpet, that he may be able to blow his own horn when -he is far away, and Cherry Street can no longer blow it for him. Is -Mr. Lindsay present?" - -The gifts were being rapidly distributed, and the jolly Saint's -charming speeches could no longer be heard above the happy talk and -laughter. Holly Belle hugged a leather music roll and a copy of "Five -Little Peppers" to her breast, Ikey Levi played the long roll on a -red drum, Pius Coffey made his toilet before the wee-est of pocket -mirrors, with the wee-est of pocket combs, and Beatrice held a single -long-stemmed American Beauty rose in her hand, when Saint Nicholas -rapped loudly for order. - -"I find here, on the very topmost bough," he announced, "a blue -envelope addressed to Miss Wilhelmina Lee, President of Cherry Street -Improvement Club. Open it and read it aloud, Miss Billy." - -Miss Billy cut the sealed edge, and a slip of blue paper fluttered -to the floor. Then with surprise, delight, excitement and wavering -distrust in her tones, she read aloud the following letter: - - "NEW YORK, _December 22, 19--_. - - "MISS WILHELMINA LEE, - "_President Improvement Club, - "Cherry Street, J---- City_. - - "DEAR MADAM:-- - - "We herewith enclose you our check for one hundred dollars, - as agreed by us in our prize offer of August last. The - pictures you sent easily won the prize for marked street - improvement, although there were many competitors. Wishing - you all success in your work, - - "We are - "Very respectfully, - "PETER HANSON & CO., - "Florists, New York." - -"Is it a joke?" said Miss Billy, looking at Saint Nicholas as if she -didn't know whether to laugh or cry. - -But the good Saint, holding his whiskers in his hand in the -excitement of the moment, had stooped to the floor for the bit of -blue paper, and was examining it closely in the glow of the tree. - -"It's genuine, all right," he answered. "It's Peter Hanson's check -for one hundred dollars on the First National Bank of New York." - -"It came this afternoon," said Francis smilingly,--"and knowing what -it might be, I received it and put it on the tree for you. I took the -last snap shot and sent it away while you were ill, Miss Billy." - -A prolonged, mighty, deafening cheer went up from the assembled -throats of the Improvement Club,--a glorified cheer,--a cheer of -triumph, pride, and growing strength, with cat-calls innumerable -tacked on to the end. The astonished Maggie, entering the door with a -tray piled high with plates and napkins, was brushed lightly aside by -Mr. Hennesy. - -"Clare the middle av the room," he shouted in stentorian tones: "I'm -a-goin' to cut a pigeon wing." - -"Three cheers for Miss Billy," proposed Francis. - -"And now a tiger for Francis," returned Miss Billy, and the hubbub, -but just ended, rose again. - -"An' another fer the frinds av the Club," said Mr. Hennesy, shaking -hands right and left with everybody. - -Saint Nicholas, with his whiskers readjusted, rapped once more for -order. "Let me suggest, my friends," he said, "that we give one last -lusty cheer for Cherry Street. One, two, three--_Now_!" - - -THE END - - * * * * * - -Dorothy South - -A Love Story of Virginia Before the War - - By GEORGE CARY EGGLESTON - Author of "A Carolina Cavalier" - -Illustrated by C.D. Williams. 12mo, dark red cloth, portrait cover, -rough edges, gilt top, $1.50 - -THIS distinguished author gives us a most fascinating picture of -Virginia's golden age, her fair sons and daughters, beautiful, -picturesque homes, and the luxurious, bountiful life of the -old-school gentleman. Dorothy South has been described in these -characteristic words by Frank R. Stockton: "Learned, lovely; musical, -lovely; loving, lovely; so goes Dorothy through the book, and sad -would be the fate of poor Arthur Brent, and all of us, if she could -be stolen out of it." This is a typically pretty story, clear and -sweet and pure as the Southern sky. - -Lothrop Publishing Company--Boston - - * * * * * - -A Carolina Cavalier - -A Romance of the Carolinas - -By GEORGE CARY EGGLESTON - -Bound in red silk cloth, Illustrated cover, gilt top, rough edges. -Six drawings by C.D. Williams. Size, 5 × 7-3/4. Price $1.50 - -A strong, delightful romance of Revolutionary days, most -characteristic of its vigorous author, George Cary Eggleston. The -story is founded on absolute happenings and certain old papers of -the historic Rutledges of Carolina. As a love story, it is sweet -and true; and as a patriotic novel it is grand and inspiring. -The historic setting, and the fact that it is distinctively and -enthusiastically American, have combined to win instant success for -the book. - - Louisville Courier Journal: "A fine story of - adventure, teeming with life and aglow with color." - - Cleveland World: "There is action, plot, and fire. - Love and valor and loyalty play a part that enhances one's - respect for human nature." - - Baltimore Sun: "The story is full of movement. It is - replete with adventure. It is saturated with love." - -Lothrop Publishing Company--Boston - - * * * * * - -The Master of Warlock - - By GEORGE CARY EGGLESTON, Author of "Dorothy South," "A - Carolina Cavalier." Six Illustrations by C.D. Williams. - 12mo. Dark red cloth, illustrated cover, gilt top, rough - edges. Price, $1.50 each. - -"THE MASTER OF WARLOCK" has an interesting plot, and is full of -purity of sentiment, charm of atmosphere, and stirring doings. One -of the typical family feuds of Virginia separates the lovers at -first; but, when the hero goes to the war, the heroine undergoes many -hardships and adventures to serve him, and they are happily united in -the end. - - * * * * * - -Dorothy South - -A STORY OF VIRGINIA JUST BEFORE THE WAR - -Baltimore Sun says: - -"No writer in the score and more of novelists now exploiting the -Southern field can, for a moment, compare in truth and interest -to Mr. Eggleston. In the novel before us we have a peculiarly -interesting picture of the Virginian in the late fifties. We are -taken into the life of the people. We are shown the hearts of men -and women. Characters are dearly drawn, and incidents are skilfully -presented." - - * * * * * - -A Carolina Cavalier - -A STIRRING TALE OF WAR AND ADVENTURE - -Philadelphia Home Advocate says: - -"As a love story, 'A Carolina Cavalier' is sweet and true; but as a -patriotic novel, it is grand and inspiring. We have seldom found a -stronger and simpler appeal to our manhood and love of country." - -Lothrop Publishing Company--Boston - - * * * * * - -WHAT THE CRITICS SAY OF - -_The_ SPENDERS - - By HARRY LEON WILSON, Author of "The Lions of the - Lord." Red silk cloth, rough edges, picture cover. Six - illustrations by Rose Cecil O'Neill. Size, 5-1/4 by 7-3/4. - Postpaid, $1.50. 55th Thousand. - -HARRY THURSTON PECK, in the _New York American_, says: "The -very best two books written by Americans during the past year have -been 'The Spenders,' by Harry Leon Wilson, and 'The Pit,' by Frank -Norris." - -MARK TWAIN writes to the author: "It cost me my day yesterday. -You owe me $400. But never mind, I forgive you for the book's sake." - -LOUISVILLE COURIER-JOURNAL says: "If there is such a thing -as the American novel of a new method, this is one. Absolutely to -be enjoyed is it from the first page to the last, founded on the -elemental truth that 'the man is the strongest who, Ancæan-like, -stands with his feet upon the earth.' It is the strong tale of -three generations, and told in the romances of the grandson and -granddaughter of the original rugged pioneer of the Western country, -Peter Bines." - -THE BOOKMAN says: "Uncle Peter is a well-drawn, interesting, -picturesque, and, above all, a genuine American product.... The -dénouement is one that would be well worth reading for, even if the -body of the book were dull." - -BROOKLYN DAILY EAGLE says: "It is coruscating in wit, daring -in love, and biting in its palpable caricature of many well-known -persons in New York society; but it is so very much more than a -clever society novel making the bid of audacity for ephemeral craze." - -CHICAGO RECORD-HERALD says: "Very few novels of the day have -the sterling strength, the force, and the roomy outlook of Harry Leon -Wilson's 'The Spenders.' Every page of it is virile, and, what is -more, it combines true insight into men with a strong humor." - -CHRISTIAN HERALD says: "The character drawing throughout the -book is masterly, but Peter Bines deserves a slab in the literary -Hall of Fame." - -Lothrop Publishing Company--Boston - - * * * * * - -The Lions of the Lord - -By HARRY LEON WILSON - - Author of "The Spenders." Six illustrations by Rose Cecil - O'Neill, bound in dark green cloth, illustrated cover, - 12mo. $1.50, postpaid. - -In his romance of the old West, "The Lions of the Lord," Mr. Wilson, -whose "The Spenders" is one of the successes of the present year, -shows an advance in strength and grasp both in art and life. It is -a thrilling tale of the Mormon settlement of Salt Lake City, with -all its grotesque comedy, grim tragedy, and import to American -civilization. The author's feeling for the Western scenery affords -him an opportunity for many graphic pen pictures, and he is equally -strong in character and in description. For the first time in a novel -is the tragi-comedy of the Mormon development adequately set forth. -Nothing fresher or more vital has been produced by a native novelist. - - * * * * * - -The Spenders - -By HARRY LEON WILSON - -55th Thousand - - Author of "The Lions of the Lord." Red silk cloth, rough - edges, picture cover. Six illustrations by Rose Cecil - O'Neill. 12mo. $1.50, postpaid. - -Mark Twain writes to the author: "It cost me my day yesterday. -You owe me $400. But never mind, I forgive you for the book's sake." - -Louisville Courier-Journal says: "If there is such a thing as -the American novel of a new method, this is one. Absolutely to be -enjoyed is it from the first page to the last." - -Harry Thurston Peck, in the New York American, says: "The very -best two books written by Americans during the past year have been -'The Spenders,' by Harry Leon Wilson, and 'The Pit,' by Frank Norris." - -LOTHROP PUBLISHING COMPANY, BOSTON - - * * * * * - -Jezebel - -A Romance in the Days When Ahab Was King - - By LAFAYETTE McLAWS - Author of "When the Land Was Young" - -Illustrated by Corwin K. Linson. 12mo, red cloth, illustrated cover, -rough edges, $1.50 - -THE promise in Miss McLaws's first book has been more than realized -in "Jezebel," a work of singular power and insight. It is a Biblical -tale of the days when Elijah was a prophet of Jehovah. When Ahab -comes to the throne, and Jezebel, his wife, sets up the worship of -Baal, the prophets and believers of Israel are incensed against the -queen; and Jezebel begins a fierce persecution of her enemies. This -contest is the chief motive of the story. Miss McLaws presents this -strong-willed, beautiful queen in a novel and striking manner; the -book is replete with dramatic situations, the action is rapid and -stirring, and the dénouement is original and startling. - -Lothrop Publishing Company--Boston - - * * * * * - -When the Land was Young - -Being the True Romance of Mistress Antoinette Huguenin and Captain -Jack Middleton - -By LAFAYETTE McLAWS. Bound in green cloth, illustrated cover, gilt -top, rough edges. Six drawings by Will Crawford Size, 5 × 7-3/4. -Price, $1.50 - -[Illustration] - -THE heroine, Antoinette Huguenin, a beauty of King Louis' Court, is -one of the most attractive figures in romance; while Lumulgee, the -great war chief of the Choctaws, and Sir Henry Morgan, the Buccaneer -Knight and terror of the Spanish Main, divide the honors with hero -and heroine. The time was full of border wars between the Spaniards -of Florida and the English colonists, and against this historical -background Miss McLaws has thrown a story that is absorbing, -dramatic, and brilliant. - - NEW YORK WORLD: - - "Lovely Mistress Antoinette Huguenin! What a girl she is!" - - NEW YORK JOURNAL: - - "A story of thrill and adventure." - - SAVANNAH NEWS: - - "Among the entertaining romances based upon the colonial - days of American history this novel will take rank as one - of the most notable--a dramatic and brilliant story." - - ST. LOUIS GLOBE-DEMOCRAT: - - "If one is anxious for a thrill, he has only to read a - few pages of 'When the Land was Young' to experience the - desired sensation.... There is action of the most virile - type throughout the romance.... It is vividly told, and - presents a realistic picture of the days 'when the land was - young.'" - -Lothrop Publishing Company--Boston - - * * * * * - -The Captain - - By CHURCHILL WILLIAMS, author of "J. Devlin--Boss." - Illustrated by A.I. Keller. 12mo. Dark red cloth, - decorative cover, rough edges. Price, $1.50 each. - -WHO is the Captain? thousands of readers of this fine book will be -asking. It is a story of love and war, of scenes and characters -before and daring the great civil conflict. It has lots of color and -movement, and the splendid figure naming the book dominates the whole. - - * * * * * - -J. Devlin--Boss - - A ROMANCE OF AMERICAN POLITICS. Blue cloth, decorative - cover. 12mo. Price, $1.50. - -Mary E. Wilkins says: - -"I am delighted with your book. Of all the first novels, I believe -yours is the very best. The novel is American to the core. The spirit -of the times is in it. It is inimitably clever. It is an amazing -first novel, and no one except a real novelist could have written it." - -Lothrop Publishing Company--Boston - - * * * * * - -Judith's Garden - -By MARY E. STONE BASSETT - - With illustrations in color by George Wright. Text printed - in two colors throughout, with special ornamentation. 8vo, - light green silk cloth, rough edges, gilt top, $1.50 - -AN exquisite, delicious, charming book, as fresh as new-mown hay, as -fragrant as the odor from the garden of the gods. It is the story -of a garden, a woman, and a man. The woman is delicate and refined, -witty, and interesting; the man is Irish, funny, original, happy,--a -delicious and perfect foil to the woman. His brogue is stunning, and -his wit infectious and fetching. The garden is quite all right. There -is movement in the book; life is abundant, and it attracts. It will -catch the interest of every lover of flowers,--and their name is -legion,--and will delight and comfort every reader. - -Lothrop Publishing Company--Boston - - * * * * * - -The Kidnapped Millionaires - -A Story of Wall Street and Mexico - -By FREDERICK U. ADAMS. 12mo, cloth, $1.50 - -ONE of the most timely and startling stories of the day. A plan to -form a great Newspaper Trust, evolved in the brain of an enterprising -special correspondent, leads to the kidnapping of certain leading -Metropolitan millionaires and marooning them luxuriously on a Mexican -headland; the results--the panic in Wall Street, the search for the -kidnapped millionaires, their discovery and rescue are the chief -motives of the story, which has to do also with trusts, syndicates, -newspaper methods, and all the great monetary problems and financial -methods of the day. The story is full of adventure, full of humor, -and full of action and surprises, while the romance that develops in -its progress is altogether charming and delightful. - -Lothrop Publishing Company--Boston - - -[Transcriber's Note: Obvious printer errors and spelling/punctuation -inconsistencies have been corrected without note.] - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Miss Billy, by -Edith Keeley Stokely and Marion Kent Hurd - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MISS BILLY *** - -***** This file should be named 60495-8.txt or 60495-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/0/4/9/60495/ - -Produced by Emmy, MFR, Linda Cantoni, and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive). 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Hurd - a Project Gutenberg eBook - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 15%; - margin-right: 15%; -} - - h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -} - -p { - margin-top: .75em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .75em; -} - -hr { - width: 65%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 17.5%; - margin-right: 17.5%; - clear: both; -} - -hr.med { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; -} - -hr.short { - width: 15%; - margin-top: 1em; - margin-bottom: 1em; - margin-left: 42.5%; - margin-right: 42.5%; - clear: both; -} - -/* Tables */ -table { - margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto; -} - -.vabr {vertical-align: bottom; text-align: right;} - -.pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; - font-size: 75%; text-indent: 0em; - border-top: solid gray 1px; border-bottom: solid gray 1px; - background-color: inherit; font-weight: normal; - font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; - text-decoration: none;} - - -/* Formatting */ -.blockquot {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} - -.bbox {border-style: double; margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto; width: 75%;} - -.bbox2 {border-style: solid; margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto; width: 75%;} - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.right {text-align: right;} - -.tp {padding-top: 1em;} -.bp {padding-bottom: 1em;} - -.hang {text-indent: -2em; margin-left: 2em;} - - -/* Fonts */ -.fancy {font-style: italic; font-size: 110%;} - -.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} - -.sm {font-size: 75%;} -.msm {font-size: 90%;} -.lg {font-size: 125%;} -.mlg {font-size: 150%;} -.xlg {font-size: 200%;} - -.dropcap {float: left; padding-right: 3px; padding-top: 1px; - font-size: 250%; line-height: 83%; - width: auto;} -/* adjust as necessary - see below for decorative dropcaps */ - -.gesperrt {letter-spacing: .2em;} - - -/* Poetry */ -.poem { - display: inline-block; - max-width: 90%; - text-align: left; -} - -.i1 {margin-left: 1em;} -.i2 {margin-left: 2em;} -.i4 {margin-left: 4em;} -.i5 {margin-left: 5em;} -.i8 {margin-left: 8em;} -.i11 {margin-left: 11em;} -.i14 {margin-left: 14em;} - - -/* Images */ -.illo {padding-top: 1em; - margin: auto; text-align: center; -} - -.border img {border: 5px solid silver;} - -.caption {text-align: center; font-weight: bold; padding-bottom: 1em; - margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} - -img.decocap -{ - float: left; - margin: 0 0.5em 0 0; - padding-right: 1.5px; -} - -p.decocap:first-letter -{ - color: transparent; - visibility: hidden; - margin-left: -0.9em; -} - - -/* Transcriber Notes */ -.notes {background-color: #eeeeee; color: #000; - padding-top: .5em; padding-bottom: .5em; - padding-left: 1em; padding-right: 1em; - margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%;} - - -/* e-readers */ -@media screen, print -{ - img.decocap - { - float: left; - margin: 0 0.5em 0 0; - padding-top: 10px; - } - - p.decocap:first-letter - { - color: transparent; - visibility: hidden; - margin-left: -0.9em; - } -} - -@media handheld /* must always follow screen, print */ -{ - body {margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 90%;} - - .bbox {width: auto;} - - .dropcap {float: none; margin: 0; font-size: 100%;} - - .notes {width: auto;} - - .poem { - margin-left: 5em; - display: block; - } - - img.decocap - { - display: none; - } - - p.decocap:first-letter - { - color: inherit; - visibility: visible; - margin-left: 0; - } -} - - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -Project Gutenberg's Miss Billy, by Edith Keeley Stokely and Marion Kent Hurd - -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 -www.gutenberg.org. 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. - -Title: Miss Billy - A Neighborhood Story - -Author: Edith Keeley Stokely - Marion Kent Hurd - -Illustrator: Charles Copeland - -Release Date: October 14, 2019 [EBook #60495] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MISS BILLY *** - - - - -Produced by Emmy, MFR, Linda Cantoni, and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive). This project is dedicated with -love to Emmy's memory. - - - - - - -</pre> - - - - - -<p class="center"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="523" height="799" alt="cover" title="cover" /> -</p> - -<p class="center"><b><a href="#CONTENTS">CONTENTS</a></b></p> - -<p class="illo border"><a id="FRONT"></a> -<img src="images/front.jpg" width="500" height="666" alt="frontispiece" title="frontispiece" /> -</p> - -<p class="caption">“That wasn’t the way it happened,” said a clear voice -above them.<br /> -(<i>See <a href="#Page_66">page 66</a>.</i>)</p> - - -<div class="bbox"> -<h1 class="gesperrt">MISS BILLY</h1> - -<hr class="med" /> - -<p class="center mlg">A NEIGHBORHOOD<br /> -STORY</p> - -<p class="illo bp"> -<img src="images/wingding.jpg" width="20" height="17" alt="wingding" title="wingding" /> -</p> - -<p class="center lg"><i>By</i> EDITH KEELEY STOKELY<br /> -<i>And</i> MARIAN KENT HURD</p> - -<hr class="med" /> - -<p class="center"><i>ILLUSTRATED BY<br /> -CHARLES COPELAND</i></p> - -<hr class="med" /> - -<p class="center gesperrt"> -BOSTON ∵ LOTHROP<br /> -PUBLISHING COMPANY -</p> -</div> - - - - -<hr /> -<p class="center msm bp">Published, April, 1905</p> - -<p class="center msm tp"> -<span class="smcap">Copyright, 1905,<br /> -by Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Company</span> -</p> - -<hr class="short" /> - -<p class="center sm"><i>All Rights Reserved</i></p> - -<hr class="short" /> - -<p class="center msm bp"><span class="smcap">Miss Billy</span></p> - -<p class="center tp"> -<span class="sm">NORWOOD PRESS</span><br /> -<span class="msm">BERWICK & SMITH CO.</span><br /> -<span class="sm">NORWOOD, MASS.<br /> -U.S.A.</span> -</p> - - - - -<hr /> -<h2 class="gesperrt"><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS">CONTENTS</a></h2> - - -<table style="width: 70%" border="0" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" summary="contents"> -<tr><td class="right"><span class="sm">CHAPTER</span></td><td class="right" colspan="2"><span class="sm">PAGE</span></td></tr> -<tr><td class="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">I.</a></td><td><span class="smcap">No. 12 Cherry Street</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_1'>1</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">II.</a></td><td><span class="smcap">Miss Billy</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_8'>8</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">III.</a></td><td><span class="smcap">Ways and Means</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_22'>22</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">IV.</a></td><td><span class="smcap">New Neighbours</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_37'>37</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">V.</a></td><td><span class="smcap">A Load of Dirt</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_44'>44</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">VI.</a></td><td><span class="smcap">Next Door</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_55'>55</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">VII.</a></td><td><span class="smcap">Trials</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_70'>70</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">VIII.</a></td><td><span class="smcap">The Story of Horatius</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_86'>86</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">IX.</a></td><td><span class="smcap">Beatrice</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_110'>110</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">X.</a></td><td><span class="smcap">A Broken Sidewalk</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_124'>124</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">XI.</a></td><td><span class="smcap">Weeds</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_142'>142</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">XII.</a></td><td><span class="smcap">Little Red Riding Hood</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_154'>154</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">XIII.</a></td><td><span class="smcap">Hard Lines</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_170'>170</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">XIV.</a></td><td><span class="smcap">Two Letters</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_188'>188</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">XV.</a></td><td>“<span class="smcap">Frances</span>”</td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_200'>200</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">XVI.</a></td><td><span class="smcap">The Child Garden</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_213'>213</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">XVII.</a></td><td><span class="smcap">The Lawn Social</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_233'>233</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">XVIII.</a></td><td><span class="smcap">Margaret Lends Assistance</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_250'>250</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">XIX.</a></td><td><span class="smcap">Personal Pleasure</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_265'>265</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">XX.</a></td><td><span class="smcap">Fair Skies</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_285'>285</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">XXI.</a></td><td><span class="smcap">Hallowe’en</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_296'>296</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">XXII.</a></td><td><span class="smcap">Waiting</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_317'>317</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">XXIII.</a></td><td><span class="smcap">Conclusion</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_330'>330</a></td></tr> -</table> - - - - -<hr /> -<h2><i>ILLUSTRATIONS</i></h2> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" summary="illustrations"> -<tr><td><span class="fancy">“That wasn’t the way it happened,” said a clear voice above them</span></td><td class="right"><span class="msm"><i><a href="#FRONT">Frontispiece</a></i></span></td></tr> -<tr><td> </td><td class="right"><span class="msm"><i>Page</i></span></td></tr> -<tr><td><span class="fancy">“I have a leaning toward an up-to-date stable and riding ponies, myself”</span></td><td class="right"><span class="fancy"><a href="#Page_82">82</a></span></td></tr> -<tr><td><span class="fancy">“Who are you?” he said</span></td><td class="right"><span class="fancy"><a href="#Page_167">167</a></span></td></tr> -<tr><td><span class="fancy">Marie Jean was gotten up in a style known as “regardless”</span></td><td class="right"><span class="fancy"><a href="#Page_240">240</a></span></td></tr> -<tr><td><span class="fancy">She was telling him the history of the day</span></td><td class="right"><span class="fancy"><a href="#Page_279">279</a></span></td></tr> -<tr><td><span class="fancy">“All Oi do be nadin’,” ... “is a check-rein from the top av me head to me shoulder blades”</span></td><td class="vabr"><span class="fancy"><a href="#Page_343">343</a></span></td></tr> -</table> - - - - -<hr /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">-1-</a></span></p> -<h1 class="gesperrt">MISS BILLY</h1> - -<hr class="short" /> - -<h2><a id="CHAPTER_I"></a><span class="gesperrt">CHAPTER I</span><br /> -<br /> -<span class="sm">No. 12 CHERRY STREET</span></h2> - -<div class="center bp"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -“The house looked wretched and woe-begone:<br /> -Its desolate windows wept<br /> -With a dew that forever dripped and crept<br /> -From the moss-grown eaves: and ever anon<br /> -Some idle wind, with a passing slap,<br /> -Made rickety shutter or shingle flap.”<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<div><img style="margin-top: .3em" class="decocap" src="images/deco-m.jpg" width="56" height="55" alt="M" title="M" /></div> -<p class="decocap">MARCH had gone out like a roaring lion, and April had slipped -demurely in, armed with a pot of green paint and a scrubbing brush. -There was not much to paint in Cherry Street. A few sparse blades -of grass, tenacious of life, clung here and there to curbstone and -dooryard; but there was plenty to scrub, and the Spring maid fell to -with a will.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">-2-</a></span></p> - -<p>In consequence, on this Saturday morning, the water rushed down the -gutters in torrents, while at the same time the small denizens of -Cherry Street were lifted into the seventh heaven of delight by the -sun's showing his jolly face through the clouds and inviting them -out to wade. To make their happiness, if possible, more complete, a -pine-wood wagon, creaking and groaning under its heavy weight, had -turned the corner by Coffey's saloon and was coming up the street. -The small Cherryites paused in blissful anticipation to watch its -progress, while miniature Niagara cataracts hissed and foamed about -their bare legs.</p> - -<p>History repeats itself, and they argued with reason that when the -driver should reach the end of the block and find it a blind: a -street with no outlet, he would be covered with confusion and beat -his horses and swear horribly in trying to turn around.</p> - -<p>So, as the creaking wagon drew nearer, the youthful Cherryites fled -ecstatically through<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">-3-</a></span> the cold waters for the parquet seats on the -curbstone nearest the stage, and waited breathlessly for the rising -of the curtain.</p> - -<p>But it was decreed that the Pine Wood Dramatic Company was to play to -empty seats after all, for round the corner by Coffey's loomed a star -of greater magnitude. It was Mr. Schultzsky, landlord and taxpayer of -all Cherry Street, with his humped shoulders and rusty silk hat, his -raw-boned grey nag and a vehicle popularly known as a "rattle-trap." -Not that Mr. Schultzsky was an unusual sight in Cherry Street. -Indeed, he dwelt therein, together with a strange little niece for -housekeeper, who had come from some far-off heathen land; but rent -day, always an interesting event, on this occasion held an added -charm from the fact that Tommy Casey had made it known to all whom -it might concern that his mother intended on this day to utter such -truths to Mr. Schultzsky as would make him tremble on his throne. -Therefore, almost before the iron-grey nag had come to a full<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">-4-</a></span> stop, -the bare-legged Cherryites, precipitately deserting the Pine Wood -Drama, were gathered in a circle before Mrs. Casey's door awaiting -with fearsome ecstasy the promised crack of doom.</p> - -<p>The Casey house, in the early history of the city, had been a proud -brick mansion of eight rooms, with green blinds, and flower beds -outlined in serrated points of red brick. But the street had risen -above the level of the yard, leaving the old house like a tombstone -on a sunken grave. The old-fashioned porches were dust-coloured and -worm-eaten, the fences fallen away, and the broken window panes -and missing slats of the blinds gave it a peculiarly sightless and -toothless appearance. Like a faithful friend, the old house shared -the fallen fortunes of its early owner, for Mr. Schultzsky had bought -it, as he had come into possession of nearly all his real estate, at -a tax title sale. Now, as he tied his horse and Tommy Casey heralded -his approach, Mrs. Casey with the baby tucked in the curve of one arm -turned<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">-5-</a></span> the bread in the oven, slammed the oven door, whisked the -dust off a chair, and waited.</p> - -<p>Presently the fickle April sunshine that poured in a broad band -through the kitchen door was shadowed, and the landlord stood at the -threshold. He did not wish Mrs. Casey a polite good-morning: this was -not Mr. Schultzsky's way. Instead, he gave a characteristic little -grunt, and opening an overfed pocket book, produced from among others -of its kind a monthly rent bill, and extended it without further -ceremony.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Casey laid the baby in its cradle, brought her knuckles to her -hips, and invoking the spirit of a long line of oppression-hating -ancestors to her aid, opened the battle.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Schultzsky," she began, her soft Irish half-brogue giving no -sign of the trembling within, "whin we moved here a year ago, there -was promises ye made us that ye've not kep'. The roof is l'akin' -worse than it did then,—the overfillin' of a tub in a bad rain,—an' -me wit' my man a coachman out late o' nights,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">-6-</a></span> havin' to get up out -o' me bed wit' the lightnin' flashin' an' lave me wailin' baby to -pull a tub up the ladder undher the roof! The windays are out, six of -thim,—not that we done it, mind you,—the floors are broke,—an' of -the whole eight rooms, foive of thim are not fit for a dacint fam'ly -to live in, wit' the paint all gone an' the paper smoky an' palin' -off. The front gate was gone before we ever came here, an' now the -fince posts has rotted off an' the fince is down. Here is Spring -clanin' on me, an' what can I do wit' a place like this? Fifteen -dollars a month, Mr. Schultzsky, we're payin' ye, an' the money -waitin' for ye as reg'lar as the month comes around. But now what -I have say to ye is this: we'll move the week out onless ye paper -an' paint the five rooms,"—Mrs. Casey counted the items off on her -fingers,—"put in a new kitchen floor, fix the six windays, patch the -roof, set up the fince, an' put a bit o' paint on the porches. It's -not that our place is any worse than the others in Cherry Street, but -the Caseys bein'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">-7-</a></span> good pay, an' knowin' it, is goin' to have things a -bit different, that's all."</p> - -<p>Mr. Schultzsky considered. He took off his silk hat, carefully -wiped his forehead with a red cotton handkerchief, and replaced the -antiquated head-covering. He shuffled his rusty boots and thrust his -hands down into the pockets of his shining coat to gain time. His -small black eyes glittered craftily as he mentally added, subtracted, -and struck off the fraction of a per cent. Then he made his decision, -but he said not a word. He took from the recesses of his capacious -coat-tails a red card, some tacks and a small hammer. Without another -look at Mrs. Casey, and with as little regard for the group of -awe-stricken children, he passed around the house to the front door -and tacked up the sign.</p> - -<p>Number 12 Cherry Street was for rent.</p> - - - - -<hr /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">-8-</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"><span class="gesperrt">CHAPTER II</span></a><br /> -<br /> -<span class="sm">MISS BILLY</span></h2> - -<div class="center bp"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -“A girl who has so many wilful ways<br /> -She would have caused Job’s patience to forsake him,<br /> -Yet is so rich in all that's girlhood’s praise,<br /> -Did Job himself upon her goodness gaze,<br /> -A little better she would surely make him.”<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - -<div><img style="margin-top: .3em" class="decocap" src="images/deco-m.jpg" width="56" height="55" alt="M" title="M" /></div> -<p class="decocap">MISS Billy was an early riser. She opened her eyes to the sunshine -and pure morning air as naturally as a flower. So it came about -that at six o'clock of a May morning she was skipping downstairs -before any other member of the family had stirred, with a quick -springing step that was peculiarly her own. Miss Billy's sprightly -locomotion was a constant source of amusement to her family, and -of mortification<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">-9-</a></span> to Miss Billy herself. "It is my misfortune, not -my fault," she was wont to say when her brother Theodore described -her gait as "galumphing," and her sister Beatrice pleaded with -her to study physical culture; "and it's like struggling against -Fate to attempt to walk with discretion. I suppose it is merely an -'evening-up' of things, and that Providence gave it to me to offset -my lovely disposition."</p> - -<p>But upon this Spring morning Miss Billy's unfortunate step did -not seem to be weighing upon her mind. The glow and thrill of the -golden day opening before her sent the warm blood coursing quickly -through her veins, and the world seemed made for youth and beauty and -happiness. Miss Billy sang softly to herself as she opened the side -door and stepped out into the garden.</p> - -<p>"The garden" was a small shady spot on the north side of the tall -city house. It was not a promising place for flowers, but Miss -Billy's love for growing things was great, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">-10-</a></span> by dint of much -urging and encouragement on her part, a few spring flowers eked out -a precarious existence in the barren soil. Above the flower plot was -an open bedroom window. Miss Billy's eyes twinkled wickedly, and her -soft song changed into the whistled notes of a schoolboy's call. -There was a sound as of two bare feet coming down with a thud in the -room above her, and in a moment a tall form in gay scarlet pajamas, -with a towsled head atop, appeared at the window.</p> - -<p>"That you, Tom?" whispered a sleepy voice.</p> - -<p>Miss Billy looked up from the flowers. The violets themselves were -not more demure than her own face.</p> - -<p>"Oh, hello, Ted!" she said; "Tom's not here."</p> - -<p>"Well, who is?"</p> - -<p>"No one but me."</p> - -<p>"But I heard some one whistle."</p> - -<p>"That was me too," said Miss Billy frankly and ungrammatically.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">-11-</a></span></p> - -<p>"Well, I must say that your joke—I suppose you intended it for a -joke—is extremely crude," replied her brother crossly.</p> - -<p>"You said last night that I couldn't get you out of bed," jeered Miss -Billy. "Beside, I wanted you to see the sun rise. I have seen two -myself, this morning."</p> - -<p>"Well you may now have the pleasure of seeing one go back to bed," -said Theodore. He left the window abruptly, and Miss Billy heard him -thump his pillow impatiently as she turned again to the garden.</p> - -<p>"Ted never has much sense of humour at six o'clock in the morning," -she said, passing her loving hands under the tender green leaves. -"Six blossoms! These are the most modest violets I ever saw in my -life. They're afraid to show their heads above the ground. At this -rate it won't take me long to prepare my floral creation for the -breakfast table."</p> - -<p>There was still no sign of life about the house when she came back -with the flowers, and Miss Billy wondered, as she put the purple<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">-12-</a></span> -blossoms in a clear green glass bowl, what she should do next.</p> - -<p>"I might practise half an hour," she said to herself, looking in at -the piano as she stood in the hall door,—</p> - -<div class="center"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -“‘Practicing’s good for a good little girl,<br /> -It makes her nose straight and it makes her hair curl,’<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p>"—but my hair is too curly now, and if my nose was straight, people -would expect more of me. Beside, I hate to waste this lovely morning -on scaly exercises. I believe I'll write a letter to Margaret. I feel -in the right mood to talk to her."</p> - -<p>The same peculiar quick-step carried Miss Billy to her desk, where, -dipping a battered-looking pen into the ink, she began:—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p>"<span class="smcap">1902 Ashurst Place.</span></p> - -<p>"<i>Dearly Beloved</i>:</p> - -<p>"I suppose you're just going to bed over in Cologne, -with your hair done up in those funny little curl papers -of yours. Or don't they wear curl papers in 'furrin' -countries?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">-13-</a></span> What kind of a place is Cologne, anyway? Do -they make Lundborg's Extract there, and <i>are</i> the exports -'grain, grapes and beet sugar,' as the geography used to -say?</p> - -<p>"Over here in America I am waiting for Maggie to arise -and prepare our frugal repast, which, from sundry soaked -articles I saw last night, I suspect will mainly consist -of fish-balls. Maggie feels that she has not lived in -vain when she succeeds in getting Theodore to refuse -codfish-balls. It is the only article of food that he does -not fall upon with fork and glee.</p> - -<p>"Speaking of balls, I went to one last night, only to look -on, however. Beatrice's dancing class gave one of their -monthly parties, and I was one of the smaller fry (notice -the connection between fry and codfish-balls) whom they -deigned to invite. Those pale-drab Blanchard girls were -conducting the services—(it's well that father doesn't -inspect my correspondence)—so it's a wonder that I 'got -in' at all, for they detest me. I might add that the tender -sentiment is entirely reciprocated on my part! I wore my -old grey crêpe, and looked superbly magnificent, as of -course you know, Peggy dear. Tom Furnis, who was there, -also occupying a modest and retiring<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">-14-</a></span> seat in the rear, -mentioned to me during the evening that as soon as you came -home we would have a dancing class of our own. So you see -how everything hangs on your return.</p> - -<p>"Nothing has happened at 'Miss Peabody's Select School for -Young Ladies' since you left except that I have received -numerous invitations to select little functions in the -office, and a choice assortment of demerit marks, and -carried home the following report last month:</p> - -<div class="blockquot msm"> -<p>'Miss Lee's immediate improvement in deportment is -earnestly desired by</p> - -<p class="center">'Her instructor and sincere friend,</p> - -<p class="right">'Loutilda Amesbury Peabody.'</p> -</div> - -<p>"I did rather dread to take it home, for my report last month was not -exactly suggestive of propriety and discretion, and I hate to have my -people disappointed in me. But when I showed it to father he said, -'Some improvement this month, I see, little daughter.' Wasn't that -just like him?</p> - -<p>"Myrtle Blanchard has organised a new school club. It is composed -of the Select Six, who devote themselves to French conversation and -marshmallows once a week, and call themselves the Salon. Not to be -outdone, Madge Freer and I have started a rival organisation<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">-15-</a></span> for -ping-pong and fun. We call ourselves the Saloon. We'll have to change -the name, though, as soon as Miss Loutilda discovers its existence. -Can't you imagine her horror!</p> - -<p>"Your description of your Paris gowns did not make me at all envious, -my dear. For Miss Edwards has been making me three new dresses and -revising several old editions. I have a new brown suit, a scarlet -foulard, and a fearful and wonderful creation of purple lawn -embroidered with pale yellow celery leaves, which I shall wear to -every church supper this year. And I shall come to the station to -meet you next September arrayed like Solomon in all his glory, in all -three of the gowns, in order that you may be properly impressed, and -not outshine me in splendour.</p> - -<p>"I am afraid you won't find, in this frivolous and dressy letter, the -things you most want to know. As usual, my pen has run to nonsense. -But if you were looking for food for reflection and nourishment -of the soul, you would have come to father for it, instead of me. -Sometimes, Peggy dear, I am ashamed of my aimless, careless existence -of eating, sleeping and skylarking, as Theodore would say. There -are moments of temporary aberration in my life when I wish I could -help<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">-16-</a></span> some one else. If I were like you, now, who carry sweetness and -serenity with you, I wouldn't mourn, but alas, I am only</p> - -<p class="center">"Your unregenerate but loyal friend,</p> - -<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Miss Billy</span>.</p> - -<p>"P.S.</p> - -<p>"My suspicions about the codfish were well founded. A strong and -influential odour of breakfast has pushed the door open for me, and -I know it is time for me to descend into the lower regions. Good-by, -dear."</p> -</div> - -<p>Miss Billy laid down her pen with a sigh of relief, and wiped her -ink-stained fingers. She had just lighted her little candle and -produced a stick of wax to seal the letter, when a deafening noise -filled the hall below. At the foot of the stairs stood her brother -Theodore, armed with a Chinese gong, upon which he was performing -with great vigour. His boyish tenor rang out clearly:</p> - -<div class="center"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -"Arise, arise, ye maiden fair,<br /> -Golden eyes and azure hair,<br /> -Hear your loved one's plaintive calls,<br /> -Come to me and codfish-balls.<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">-17-</a></span></p> - -<p>"Breakfast waits, Miss Billy. Did you go back to bed again?"</p> - -<p>The family had assembled at breakfast when the younger daughter -entered the dining room, smiling over Theodore's improvised poetry. -"Mother looks more sober than usual," she thought, as she drew the -sweet face to her own.</p> - -<p>"Morning, motherie."</p> - -<p>"Good-morning, little daughter. You left your footprints behind you. -The violets are lovely."</p> - -<p>There was an unsealed letter at Miss Billy's plate, and similar -envelopes for Beatrice and Theodore. Miss Billy opened hers first. It -ran:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p>"You are requested to be present at a family meeting to be -held in the study this morning at eight o'clock. Important -matters to be discussed. By order of</p> - -<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Father</span>."</p> -</div> - -<p>The letters excited no comment. They were an every-day occurrence -in the Lee fam<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">-18-</a></span>ily. If Theodore's unruly tongue caused mischief, or -his love of a joke was carried too far, a delicate reminder at his -plate was sure to call attention to the fact. If Beatrice stopped -for a moment to exchange compliments with her old enemy, Personal -Vanity, or did she pursue an uneven tenor of fault-finding for a -time, a letter was the means of bringing her to order. But upon -Miss Billy,—energetic, wideawake Miss Billy,—who was always doing -things, and doing them hard, the missives descended like flocks of -white doves. These letters did not all contain censure. Some of -them were so full of praise as to make their owner blush with an -embarrassment of happiness, but one could never be sure beforehand of -the contents.</p> - -<p>Theodore was already in the study when Miss Billy entered. He was -stretched out on the floor with two sofa pillows under his head and -four under his feet.</p> - -<p>"Something's up," he remarked sagely.</p> - -<p>"Yes," assented Miss Billy, "and that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">-19-</a></span> something had better come -down. Take the pillows from under your feet, Ted."</p> - -<p>"Well, I hope the bank hasn't gone busted, or father's colt been -killed, or anything happened to our government bonds, or Maggie given -warning, or Beatrice plighted her troth to a peanut man. Billy, what -a savage you are! What are pillows for, I'd like to know. I should -think you'd be afraid to treat me as you do. Some day the worm will -turn, and when a belted earl comes to seek your hand I'll expose your -tyranny."</p> - -<p>"Theodore," said Miss Billy, standing very tall and straight, and -with a serious expression on her usually merry face,—"stop joking -and listen. Something <i>is</i> up, really. I've been waiting for it to -come out for a month. Of course I don't know exactly what it is, but -I have my suspicions, and every time I have looked at mother's sober -face I have felt guilty to be happy. Now Ted, if what I think turns -out to be true, I have some plans to propose, and you must stand by -me in them."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">-20-</a></span></p> - -<p>"What do you mean?" asked Theodore, with a boy's disgust for mystery. -"You're talking in parables, Miss Billy."</p> - -<p>"I mean that I'm sure father's lost some money," answered his sister -hurriedly. "I haven't time to explain now; the whole family will -be here in a minute. But when the rest come in, I want you to say -exactly what I say, and uphold me in every way."</p> - -<p>"Well, I like that," gasped Theodore, raising himself on one elbow. -"Say exactly what you say! What do you intend to say, and why should -I play follow-my-leader? No ma'am, I sign no paper before reading it."</p> - -<p>"But you must," insisted Miss Billy hurriedly. "You'll understand -why later. You've got to pull with me. I know how Beatrice will act, -and I'll need an ally the minute her tears begin to flow. I depend -upon you to stand by me, as you always do. Come Ted, promise. Quick, -they're coming."</p> - -<p>"Your blandishments have the usual telling effect," groaned Theodore. -"I promise,—I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">-21-</a></span> suppose I've got to. But you're responsible for all -the evil that may come from my yielding to temptation." He collapsed -among the pillows, and had just succeeded in covering his tall form -with a slumber robe when the rest of the family entered.</p> - - - - -<hr /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">-22-</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"><span class="gesperrt">CHAPTER III</span></a><br /> -<br /> -<span class="sm">WAYS AND MEANS</span></h2> - -<div class="center bp"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -“And a chorus arose from the judicial bench,<br /> -Our learned decision is this,—to retrench.”<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<div><img style="margin-top: .3em" class="decocap" src="images/deco-t.jpg" width="56" height="56" alt="T" title="T" /></div> -<p class="decocap">THE minister's study was furnished with an eye to comfort rather -than beauty. And yet there was something better than mere artistic -loveliness in the long room, lined with book shelves, and with every -evidence of use in the well worn couch, the comfortable easy chairs, -and the desk piled with papers. Mrs. Lee's mending basket stood -on the table, Beatrice's burnt-wood outfit was on the low shelf, -Theodore's ping-pong table occupied one corner, and the windows were -full of Miss Billy's plants. The room was the heart of the house. -Here the poor and the sick of the minister's people came for help in -their trouble. Here the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">-23-</a></span> children came for advice and encouragement -in their childish griefs and hopes. Here the forlorn were cheered, -and the sinful comforted; and here reigned the abiding spirit of the -home.</p> - -<p>Between the two south windows, in the post of honour in the room, -hung the sermon board. It was a small slate blackboard, which -had been glorified quite beyond its usual educational purposes. -Bittersweet branches garlanded its sides, and hung their scarlet -berries over its edges, and Miss Billy's best ivy stood on a bracket -beneath. The board was an institution in the household. Here one -was sure to find a bit of helpful verse, a timely quotation or an -inspiring text, for all of the minister's sermons were not delivered -from the pulpit. To-day it bore a longer message than usual,—Miss -Billy's face grew soft as she read:</p> - -<p>"To be honest, to be kind; to earn a little, and to spend less; to -make upon the whole a family happier by his presence; to renounce -where that shall be necessary and not to be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">-24-</a></span> embittered; to keep a -few friends, but these without capitulation, above all, on the same -grim conditions, to keep friends with himself—here is a task for all -that a man has of fortitude and delicacy."</p> - -<p>"Father is that man if one lives," she thought tenderly. "And mother -is brave, too, but they will need help,—both of them."</p> - -<p>"The meeting will come to order," said Mr. Lee, the lines of his face -smoothing themselves out, as they always did when he looked at his -assembled family.</p> - -<p>"Whom can he mean?" asked Theodore innocently, stretching out his -long legs in front of Beatrice.</p> - -<p>"He means you," said Beatrice sharply. "Do get up, Theodore. You are -so awkward-looking, there on the floor."</p> - -<p>"Why is Beatrice like this meeting?" murmured Theodore, disentangling -his legs from the afghan. "Because she has come to order. Sweet -sister, in you a magnificent slave driver was ruined! Thus I fly to -obey thy mandate."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">-25-</a></span></p> - -<p>Miss Billy gazed at him with meaning eyebrows as he established -another cozy nest with robe and pillows on the broad couch. "I do -hope he won't act up," she thought anxiously, settling herself in a -position of attention.</p> - -<p>"Our business is a little unpleasant this morning," began Mr. Lee -with a poor little imitation of a smile that did not deceive at -least one member of the party. "Mother and I had decided to keep it -from you as long as possible, but later developments have made it -necessary to—to——"</p> - -<p>"It is right that we should know the unpleasant things as well as the -pleasant," put in Miss Billy stoutly. "We are not children. Beatrice -is eighteen, and Theodore and I shall be sixteen next June."</p> - -<p>"There are disasters much worse than losing money," went on Mr. -Lee. "Still I find myself perplexed and worried over financial -troubles, and I feel that I need the sound judgment of every member -of the family.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">-26-</a></span> Through the dishonesty of managing officers we have -lost $15,000 which was invested in the Eastern Building and Loan -Association. The loss cuts off from this source an annual income of -$900, which of course we would not feel very keenly so long as my -present salary continued. But yesterday I received a letter from the -church trustees, worded as delicately and graciously as possible, -but regretting that heavy indebtedness obliges them to reduce the -pastor's salary $500 a year, for at least two years. This leaves us -$1400 a year poorer than we have been before."</p> - -<p>"Let me go to work," begged Theodore. "I'd like to."</p> - -<p>"We thought of that," said Mrs. Lee with an approving glance at her -son; "but it is not the most practical way when we consider the -future. You must finish school first, Theodore."</p> - -<p>Beatrice had been applying her handkerchief to her eyes in a ladylike -manner. "Can't you do something to those horrid<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">-27-</a></span> men?" she inquired -pathetically. "Sue them, or have them arrested, or something?"</p> - -<p>"Perhaps the law may reach them," said Mr. Lee, "but I have my -doubts about the results. I fear there is little to recover. I think -our wisest policy is to forget what is gone, and to conform to the -situation as quickly as possible. Miss Billy, we haven't heard from -you."</p> - -<p>"Hurry up, Miss Billy. You may never be <i>invited</i> to talk again in -the whole course of your existence," said her irrepressible brother.</p> - -<p>Miss Billy roused from a brown study. "We are living in a large -house—sixty dollars a month," she suggested.</p> - -<p>"We couldn't live in a smaller one," put in Beatrice tearfully.</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes we could," returned Miss Billy, with a glance at Theodore.</p> - -<p>"Of course we could," echoed Theodore firmly.</p> - -<p>"There can be a reduction made in the matter of servants," said Mrs. -Lee. "We are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">-28-</a></span> paying Maggie fifteen dollars and Charlotte twelve. I -have talked with Maggie already. She will stay with us for twelve, -and we can let Charlotte go."</p> - -<p>Beatrice looked more woe-begone than before, but Miss Billy's face -showed no disappointment. "I think that is the very best thing to -do under the circumstances," she said decidedly. "The servant girl -problem is solved."</p> - -<p>"On the contrary, it has just begun," said Beatrice with a rueful -glance at her pretty hands.</p> - -<p>"Miss Peabody will have to lose the brightest star in her galaxy. She -draws too heavily upon our modest income. I shall join Ted at the -High School," went on Miss Billy bravely.</p> - -<p>"Are you sure that is wise?" asked Mrs. Lee. "Private school has been -one of my pet extravagances. I should like to keep you with your old -schoolmates as long as possible, for it will make a great change in -your life to leave them."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">-29-</a></span></p> - -<p>"But think of the saving in expense," urged Miss Billy.</p> - -<p>Beatrice gave a little shudder. "I hate to think of your going to -that dirty, noisy place—filled with Germans and germs——"</p> - -<p>"And Polish and poles, and Russians and rushes——" put in Theodore.</p> - -<p>"The course is certainly good, and the instructors excellent," said -the minister. "If Miss Billy could be reconciled to the public -schools for a year, I think we could manage college for her later." -There was a wistfulness in his tones that touched Miss Billy's tender -heart.</p> - -<p>"Of course I could," she said stoutly. "I'd rather go, daddy dear."</p> - -<p>"As to the matter of houses," went on Mr. Lee, "I am afraid that -we shall have to leave our present home. Your mother and I spent -yesterday in looking at vacant houses. Just now there seem to be few -unoccupied, but we finally found one that we thought might do."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">-30-</a></span></p> - -<p>"Where is it?" inquired Beatrice.</p> - -<p>"In the lower part of the town," answered Mr. Lee. "It is not in -an aristocratic neighbourhood, but it seems as though it might be -quite comfortable, after a few repairs are made, and the rent is -ridiculously low. The house in Number 12 Cherry Street."</p> - -<p>"Cherry Street!" cried Beatrice, involuntarily clapping her palms -over her eyes. "Oh, papa, how <i>can</i> you. We <i>can't</i> live in Cherry -Street."</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes we can," said Miss Billy promptly.</p> - -<p>"Yes we can," chimed in Theodore.</p> - -<p>"What kind of a house is it?" asked Miss Billy, in a practical and -business-like tone.</p> - -<p>Mr. Lee looked puzzled. "Well, I know it's small," he said, "and I -have an indistinct remembrance of brown paint. Ask your mother; I -fear I haven't much memory for details. Perhaps if I had I should -have watched my investment a little closer," he added sadly.</p> - -<p>"The house is small, and is brown too—in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">-31-</a></span> spots," said Mrs. Lee. "It -has four rooms downstairs and four bedrooms above. There is no water -or gas in the house, which is of course a great inconvenience; and -the place is in shabby condition; but the landlord has promised to -make the necessary repairs and to paint the house for us."</p> - -<p>"He probably realises what it will mean to Cherry Street in a social -way, to have us for tenants," said Beatrice.</p> - -<p>"You bet he does," said Theodore. "In his mind's eye he can probably -see Cherry Street ablaze with light and aglow with colour. He can -see number twelve filled with diamond tiaras and cut glass pianos -and freezers full of ice cream, to signify that a function is on. He -can see the Caseys and the Raffertys and the Rosenbaums riding by in -their coupés and splendour to attend the house warming given by the -minister. Thus will 'sassiety' be brought into Cherry Street by the -new tenants."</p> - -<p>"Is there a yard?" asked Miss Billy diplo<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">-32-</a></span>matically, for Beatrice was -flushing angrily under her brother's ridicule. "Yes, there is a large -yard," said Mrs. Lee. "The sod is almost worn off, but a little grass -seed and care will work wonders there."</p> - -<p>"Good!" exclaimed Miss Billy. "Then perhaps, sometime in the dim and -misty future I may have a garden of my own. I would be willing to -move for that alone."</p> - -<p>"And I can raise vegetables and keep chickens," said Theodore.</p> - -<p>"And rise at daybreak to plough and harrow, and to feed and water -your stock," slyly added Miss Billy.</p> - -<p>"Yes, my dear," retorted Theodore with true brotherly inflection, -"and without the aid of an alarm clock either. When I hear a -combination of an avalanche and an ice wagon going downstairs I shall -say to myself: 'Time to get up. There goes Miss Billy.'"</p> - -<p>"How about the furniture?" inquired Miss Billy, ignoring her -brother's thrust. "It seems to me that what now abundantly fills<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">-33-</a></span> -fourteen rooms will overflow in eight. I have a hazy recollection -of a philosophical principle about two objects not being able to -occupy the same place at the same time. How shall we manage to get -our great-grandmother's colossal bed into an eight by ten bedroom? -Can you put allopathic furniture into a homœopathic house, mother -mine?"</p> - -<p>"That is another thing to be considered," said Mrs. Lee. "Of course -we shall not be able to take all of our furniture. I think we must -plan to move only what is most necessary——"</p> - -<p>"The bath tub and the Bible," interrupted Theodore.</p> - -<p>"Yes," said his mother, smiling in spite of herself at the boy's -merry way of treating a serious subject. "And the books for your -father, and the piano for Beatrice——"</p> - -<p>"And the couch for Theodore," suggested Miss Billy.</p> - -<p>"And the watering pot for Miss Billy," retorted Theodore.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">-34-</a></span></p> - -<p>"And the sewing machine for me," went on Mrs. Lee, "and the range for -Maggie, and the pictures and other comforts for us all. We must make -Number 12 Cherry Street into a home as soon as possible. We shall -store the rest, not sell it, for I feel sure that we shall need it -all some day."</p> - -<p>Miss Billy slid down on to the floor between her mother and father, -and patted a hand of each. "Don't look so solemncholy," she said -fondly; "moving isn't the worst thing in the world. We have been so -comfortable all our lives that we don't know what it is to deprive -ourselves of anything. And perhaps it will be a good lesson for us -all—at least for Beatrice and Ted and me. Beside, I must confess -that I already begin to feel a yearning to take possession of my new -home. I believe that I shall like Number 12 Cherry Street."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Lee smiled dubiously. "It is not a very pleasant house," she -said. "And we shall not live as comfortably as we have been living -since you can remember. You must<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">-35-</a></span> not raise your hopes so high that -a fall will hurt them. There are many things about the new life that -will be hard and uncomfortable and distasteful, and we shall long -for our pretty home and our old neighbours many, many times. But we -are all together, and we have health and hope, which surely ought to -bring happiness. And home is always home, no matter where the house -is."</p> - -<p>"But what will become of our friends?" said Beatrice, in a -suspiciously teary tone. "None of them will come to visit us on -Cherry Street."</p> - -<p>"Let them stay away then," advised Miss Billy.</p> - -<p>"By all means let them stay away," echoed Theodore airily.</p> - -<p>"But they won't stay away," said Mrs. Lee, putting her arm tenderly -about her elder daughter. "The ones we love best will find us, dear, -even at Number 12 Cherry Street."</p> - -<p>Miss Billy turned to the sermon board.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">-36-</a></span></p> - -<p>"... To renounce where that shall be necessary and not to be -embittered...." Her eyes went from her mother's sweet smile to her -father's serene face.</p> - -<p>"They don't <i>need</i> any help," she decided.</p> - - - - -<hr /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">-37-</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"><span class="gesperrt">CHAPTER IV</span></a><br /> -<br /> -<span class="sm">NEW NEIGHBOURS</span></h2> - -<div class="center bp"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -“Now she’s cast off her bonny shoon<br /> -<span class="i1">Made o’ gilded leather,</span><br /> -And she’s put on her Hieland brogues<br /> -<span class="i1">To skip amang the heather:</span><br /> -And she’s cast off her bonny goon<br /> -<span class="i1">Made o’ the silk and satin,</span><br /> -And she’s put on a tartan plaid<br /> -<span class="i1">To row amang the bracken.”</span><br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<div><img style="margin-top: .3em" class="decocap" src="images/deco-m.jpg" width="56" height="55" alt="M" title="M" /></div> -<p class="decocap">MARIE JEAN HENNESY was making her morning toilet. The sun was five -hours high, but for this Marie Jean cared nothing at all. She -finished tying a row of white rags in her hair that gave her a -peculiarly spiked and bristling appearance, and then buttoned her -velveteen waist here and there, leaving a button over at the top and -bringing a mateless buttonhole out at the bottom.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">-38-</a></span></p> - -<p>Marie Jean's room was in a state of disorder that suggested its -owner had participated in late festivities the night before. A pair -of soiled white slippers were flung under the bed, together with a -pair of down-trodden shoes which Marie Jean, on her knees, was even -now seeking. A white gown that had lost much of its pristine purity -was thrown over a chair, while belts, ribbons, soap, corset-strings, -fans, handkerchiefs, powder-puffs and stockings occupied conspicuous -positions on the furniture or on the floor. Every drawer had its -mouth shut tight on a large mouthful of its possessions,—and the -dresser top was so filled with combs, brushes, perfumery, thread, -safety pins, matches, hair-pins and bottles, that the only wonder was -it could hold it all.</p> - -<p>But the rapt expression of Marie Jean Hennesy's face betokened -that her thoughts were far away from the mean subject of household -disorder. She was studying the programme of the ball of the night -before, at which she had danced every number. To be sure, her -slip<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">-39-</a></span>pers had hurt her, and she had endured an uncomfortable pinch -in the waist, but murmurs of admiration on every side had told her -she "looked lovely." She hummed a bit of a waltz tune and glanced -coquettishly in the mirror as the remembrance of her conquests flowed -warmly back to her: then discovering that by the morning light she -was looking sallow, she rescued the jar of Maiden's Blush from under -the bureau and deftly applied it to her cheeks.</p> - -<p>That Marie Jean's breakfast waited, no one with a nose could deny. -The smoky fat of much fried bacon festooned the air in graceful -clouds, alluring the tardy maid kitchenward. It swung riotously in -the folds of the parlour curtains and luxuriated on the best plush -parlour chairs, while the essence of boiled coffee stalked boldly -upstairs, calling loudly, "Come down, Marie Jean,—we've waited for -hours."</p> - -<p>In the kitchen there were evidences that Mrs. Hennesy had been -scrubbing. A pail of scrubbing water stood on the floor, and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">-40-</a></span> -brush and soap lay beside. A sharp boundary line, also, divided -the clean from the unclean. But the floor was quite dry, and Mrs. -Hennesy's apron was nearly dry, and she was so absorbed in looking -out of the window at the people that were moving in next door that -she did not hear Marie Jean enter the kitchen. When she became aware -of her presence she gave an apologetic little cough, and bustled -about the stove serving the delayed breakfast.</p> - -<p>"If I'd knowed ye was up, Mary Jane," she said deprecatingly, "I'd've -fixed somethin' else fer yer breakfast. I've been kapin' this since -sivin o'clock an' it's near noon now. What kind of a time was there -at the dance last night? I tried to kape awake till ye come in, but I -was that tired wit' the ironin' I dropped off in spite of mesilf. Did -ye enjoy yerself?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, fairly well," drawled Marie Jean, toying languidly with her -cup and spoon: there was a wrinkle between the eyes, and a haughty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">-41-</a></span> -uplifting of the chin that warned Mrs. Hennesy that as ever after a -ball, Marie Jean was cross, and she hastened to change the subject to -impersonal topics.</p> - -<p>"The new folks is movin' in next door," she volunteered: "they must -have been doin' a lot of repairs. The painters an' paper hangers -has just got their ladders an' things moved out, an' the carpets is -bein' nailed down now: they've kep' the racket up since sivin o'clock -this mornin'. Sure now, I do be missin' Mrs. Casey more an' more -ivery day,—a-comin' in an' out wit' a pail, or the coal hod, or the -potatay peelin's, an' always stoppin' to spake neighbourly like, over -the fince. It's hard to see new folks movin' in."</p> - -<p>"What manner of people are they?" inquired Marie Jean, leaning -languidly back in her chair.</p> - -<p>"Oh, they seem good enough folks," returned Mrs. Hennesy, "but -they'll niver be what Mrs. Casey was,—that frindly an' obligin' she -was that she'd lind the head off her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">-42-</a></span> shoulders. The man looks like -wan of thim Protestant praists,—an' the woman's young lookin', all -but her white hair. There's two girls about yer age, Mary Jane, an' -a boy, besides a hired girl. They've got good furniture,—nothin' so -good as our plush parlour set, though,—an' I don't much care for the -colour of their carpets. Still, I guess they'll be good neighbours -enough."</p> - -<p>Marie Jean pushed back her breakfast and stepped over to the window. -The scene that met her eyes was an animated one. Workmen were lifting -furniture and household goods out of a heavy moving van and hurrying -them into the house. A tall gentlemen in a silk hat was beating a -rug in the back yard. A stout-armed maid was suspended out of an -upper story window with pail, brushes and fluttering rags, engaged -in cleaning the glass. A tall broad-shouldered youth in a baggy pair -of overalls was digging out the rotten fenceposts: and last of all, -a girl in a gingham dress, a girl with flushed face and wavy hair -tucked up<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">-43-</a></span> under an old hat, was energetically raking the yard and -gathering the dirt into little piles.</p> - -<p>"Mercy!" exclaimed Marie Jean Hennesy. Then she added haughtily, "I -shall not call upon them."</p> - - - - -<hr /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">-44-</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"><span class="gesperrt">CHAPTER V</span></a><br /> -<br /> -<span class="sm">A LOAD OF DIRT</span></h2> - -<div class="center bp"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -“Nor knowest thou what argument<br /> -Thy life to thy neighbour’s creed hath lent.”<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<div><img style="margin-top: .3em; padding-right: 5px" class="decocap" src="images/deco-i.jpg" width="55" height="55" alt="I" title="I" /></div> -<p class="decocap">IT was Saturday morning and a great hammering was going on in the -Hennesy yard. Whenever the hammering ceased for a moment, a boyish -whistle took its place. It was a cheerful whistle and an infectious -one. The minister in his study was working up his sermon for Sunday -morning. It was called "The Simple Life," but it was growing all too -complex and knotty, and the minister leaned back in his chair with -relaxed muscles and contemplated his work with a troubled air. The -whistle burst into song and floated in through the window with the -sunshine:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">-45-</a></span></p> - -<div class="center"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -"Ev'ry Sunday, down to her home we go,—<br /> -All the girls and all the boys they love her so:<br /> -Always jolly,—heart that is true, I know,—<br /> -She's the sunshine of Paradise Al-ley."<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p>The minister sat straight again and dipped his pen in the ink. -Life was so simple after all. "Love ye one another and keep my -commandments." The sermon smoothed itself out and flowed evenly along -to the tune of "Paradise Alley."</p> - -<p>Miss Billy was on the side of the house stirring the virgin soil with -an axe preparatory to putting in her pansies. Theodore came jauntily -out of the door, his hat and shoes well brushed and shaking out a -clean handkerchief.</p> - -<p>"Well!" exclaimed Miss Billy reproachfully, "I thought you were going -to help me to-day."</p> - -<p>"Would that I could!" said Theodore, waving the handkerchief -gracefully at her. "But Mistress Billy, gaze upon my shoes."</p> - -<p>"I see they are your patent leathers. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">-46-</a></span> should think you would wear -your others Saturday."</p> - -<p>"That's the beginning of the story," said Theodore, lowering his -voice confidentially. "These are my all,—and hush, Billy,—these -are busted. I've got exactly nineteen cents in the world, but I've -recorded a vow to buy my own clothes and schoolbooks, hereafter. I'll -not ask father for another cent of money. Therefore I go hence to -seek a job."</p> - -<p>"Well, go on then, and good luck to you," said Miss Billy, taking up -the axe again. "But this soil—" and she made a savage chop at the -ground with each word, "—is—just—all—stones—and—clay."</p> - -<p>As Theodore departed, the hammering in the Hennesy yard waned and the -melody lifted again.</p> - -<div class="center"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -"When Maguire's little lad had the fever so bad<br /> -<span class="i1">That no one would dare to go near him,</span><br /> -This maiden so brave said, 'Perhaps I can save,<br /> -<span class="i1">At least I can comfort and cheer him.'"</span><br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p>Miss Billy's face brightened, and throwing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">-47-</a></span> down the axe she went -to the fence and stood looking over at the panorama which unfolded -itself.</p> - -<p>The Hennesy house, in years past, had evidently done duty as a store. -It was a dilapidated old brick building, set crookedly on its lot, -with two disproportionately large front windows in the lower half, -and a big deep-set front door. Above the second story the house -terminated abruptly in a flat tin roof without ornamentation of any -kind. In the rear of the lot there were a barn, a wagon shed, and a -chicken house, all shedding various coats and colours of whitewash, -and all in the last stages of disrepair. Scattered promiscuously -about the yard were broken wagon wheels, wood-racks, chickens, pine -wood, and old tin cans,—while a lame horse, a boy, a leaning pump, -a dilapidated clothes-reel and two wobbly puppies further graced -the scene. Grass, flower or shrub there was none,—but there was -mud,—plenty of it; mud wet and mud dried. And the deep ruts in the -ground, together with the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">-48-</a></span> broken wheels lying around, and the strong -barny smell pervading the place, gave testimony that Mr. Hennesy -followed "teaming" for a living.</p> - -<p>The hammering was beginning again when Miss Billy spoke:</p> - -<p>"What are you making?" she asked pleasantly.</p> - -<p>John Thomas Hennesy looked up. As to turned up nose and freckles, he -much resembled Marie Jean, but his mouth was firmer. He gave Miss -Billy a long penetrating stare, and the colour did not begin to creep -into his cheeks until after he had dropped his head.</p> - -<p>"I'm fixin' a new kennel fer my dog," he said shamefacedly.</p> - -<p>"Goodness!" thought Miss Billy, "he's older than I thought. He must -be at least fifteen." Then she went on aloud, "I wonder if it is a -white bulldog with a black spot on its back?"</p> - -<p>"Yes,—that's her," answered the boy, looking up with quick interest.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">-49-</a></span></p> - -<p>"Then she's been calling on me a week steadily, for bones," declared -Miss Billy gaily. "I'm so glad to know her."</p> - -<p>John Thomas took up his hammer again and began to search irresolutely -through his nail box at his side, but Miss Billy stood her ground -with her arms behind her and her chin resting on the top of the fence.</p> - -<p>"He's wishing I would go," she thought, "but I am not going. I shall -stand right here until I get courage enough to ask him to come over -and help me with the pansy bed. But it's awkward,—awfully awkward. I -can't think of a thing to say."</p> - -<p>"I liked your dog the moment I saw her," she went on: "I owned one -like her three years ago."</p> - -<p>John Thomas, having found his nail, hesitated no longer, but began to -drive it into the frame with ringing strokes. Miss Billy waited until -the hammering subsided.</p> - -<p>"A friend of father's gave her to me when she was a little bow-legged -puppy. She was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">-50-</a></span> a beautiful dog, white, with nice burnt sienna spots, -and a lovely disposition. I named her Serena on account of that -disposition. But she had the funniest looking tail, with three queer -kind of corkscrews in it." (Miss Billy illustrated with a whirl of -her forefinger that was entirely lost upon John Thomas.)</p> - -<p>"But I didn't care,—I loved Serena, if her tail did go in a -corkscrew. But one summer my cousin, who was studying medicine, came -to visit us, and Serena's tail seemed to bother him an awful lot. -He kept making remarks about it all the time, and said it had been -broken and ought to come off. So at last I consented."</p> - -<p>John Thomas had picked out another nail, but now for the first time -began to display interest in the story, and looked up from his work -as Miss Billy went on:</p> - -<p>"We gave her chloroform: I held the sponge myself while my cousin -performed the operation. It didn't hurt her at all, and she really -seemed handsomer without the tail, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">-51-</a></span> a sorry sequel followed. I -went to Philadelphia soon after, and while I was there my uncle took -me to a dog show. I never before saw so many beautiful dogs and among -them was one almost exactly like my Serena, and with three twists in -her tail."</p> - -<p>"'You have a dog just like mine,' I said to the man who owned her.</p> - -<p>"'Has your dog a tail like this?' he asked.</p> - -<p>"I told him 'yes,' and was just going on to explain to him how I had -had it operated upon when he interrupted me. 'Then it was a good -breed,' he said. 'That tail is the mark of a fine dog. Each curl in -the tail adds fifteen dollars to the value of the animal.'"</p> - -<p>Miss Billy's eyes looked solemnly down into John Thomas's widely -distended orbs: "Think of it!" she said: "Forty-five dollars cut off -at one fell swoop! I can assure you my cousin has never heard the -last of it."</p> - -<p>"Where's the dog now?"</p> - -<p>"Dead. Run over by a street car. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">-52-</a></span> cried for months. I don't expect -to ever own another like Serena."</p> - -<p>John Thomas drew a long breath, and turning to his box began a search -for a leather hinge.</p> - -<p>Miss Billy felt herself distinctly dismissed, but she still held on -to the fence.</p> - -<p>"I want to ask you,—" she began again,—"what I can do about a -flower bed that's just all stones. I'm trying to dig it, you know."</p> - -<p>"Take the stones out," said John Thomas laconically.</p> - -<p>"But there wouldn't be anything left! It's <i>all</i> stones!"</p> - -<p>"Maybe it's just a fillin', an' there's good dirt underneath," -suggested the boy.</p> - -<p>"Won't you please step over and look at it?" entreated Miss Billy: so -John Thomas, with open reluctance, laid down his hammer and nails, -and climbed as awkwardly as possible over the fence.</p> - -<p>"If it's fillin' it goes awful deep," he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">-53-</a></span> decided, after a quarter of -an hour of hard work. "Nothin' can't grow in here."</p> - -<p>"But I must have some flowers!" wailed Miss Billy, in despair. -"Why, that was one reason that I wanted to come and live on Cherry -Street,—because there was a big yard here, you know."</p> - -<p>John Thomas was regarding the rocky flower bed musingly. "I'll tell -you what I can do," he said at last. "There's more than a foot of -this out already,—an' I'll go down to where my father has got some -teams hauling dirt from a cellar they're digging, an' I'll bring you -a load, if you'd like it. It's good black dirt."</p> - -<p>"John Thomas Hennesy!" exclaimed Miss Billy, clasping her hands in -ecstasy: "A load,—<i>a whole load</i>,—of black dirt?"</p> - -<p>"Why sure," said John Thomas, reddening with pleasure. "They're just -dumping it into an old quarry."</p> - -<p>"A whole load of black dirt!" said Miss Billy, musingly. "I'll have -pansies, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">-54-</a></span> sweet-peas, and geraniums, and I'll sow grass seed on -the bad places in the yard. John Thomas Hennesy, you're a prize!"</p> - -<hr class="med" /> - -<p>That evening, as the Lee family assembled around the tea-table, the -minister said cheerily, "I had a peculiar thing to be thankful for -to-day. It was the song and whistle of a light-hearted boy. It helped -me with my sermon."</p> - -<p>"I have to be thankful for a daughter who took the cake baking off my -hands and helped me with the mending," said Mrs. Lee, smiling over at -Beatrice.</p> - -<p>"I am thankful for John Thomas Hennesy and black dirt!" declared Miss -Billy fervently.</p> - -<p>"And I," wound up Theodore proudly, "for getting a steady Saturday -job, taking care of Brown's soda fountain, at a dollar a day!"</p> - - - - -<hr /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">-55-</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"><span class="gesperrt">CHAPTER VI</span></a><br /> -<br /> -<span class="sm">NEXT DOOR</span></h2> - -<div class="blockquot bp"> -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="msm">“Of course I’m interested in my neighbour: Why shouldn’t I -be? That fence between us only whets my appetite.”</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<div><img style="margin-top: .3em" class="decocap" src="images/deco-a.jpg" width="56" height="56" alt="A" title="A" /></div> -<p class="decocap">AT the same hour the Hennesy family were having six o'clock dinner in -the kitchen. Mrs. Hennesy, Marie Jean and John Thomas were already -seated at the table, but Mr. Hennesy still stood with his head -enveloped in the roller towel at the kitchen sink.</p> - -<p>"An' ye say her name is Billy, John Thomas?" inquired Mrs. Hennesy, -serving the corned beef and cabbage with a liberal hand. "Sure now, -it must be a mistake. Maybe it's Milly ye're afther hearin' thim call -her. Sure an' Billy's no girl's name at all."</p> - -<p>"It's Billy," persisted John Thomas,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">-56-</a></span> between mouthfuls of cabbage. -"Her real name is Wilhelmina, but it was so long and hard they've -called her Miss Billy ever since she was a little girl. The Miss is -always in front of it though. That makes it feminoine."</p> - -<p>"Saints have mercy!" ejaculated Mrs. Hennesy. "Wilhelmina! It must be -Indian! Mary Jane, you ought to be thankful for your own name, that -you ought, afther hearin' this wan."</p> - -<p>"An' not be thryin' to copy afther thim Frinch quanes that got their -heads cut off fer their impidence," put in Mr. Hennesy, emerging from -the towel with every hair on end, and seating himself at the table -with the scant ceremony of rolling down his shirt sleeves.</p> - -<p>Marie Jean gave her little head a toss, which was lost upon Mr. -Hennesy as he helped himself to a piece of corned beef from the -platter. "Was she glad to get the dirt, John Thomas?" he inquired -good-naturedly.</p> - -<p>"Glad!" said John Thomas. "Well, she was that tickled you'd 'a' -thought it was gold.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">-57-</a></span> She tuk me into the house to make lemonade, an' -then upstairs to show me her brother's room. My, yo' ought to see it, -Mary Jane."</p> - -<p>"I s'pose it's just grand," said Marie Jean condescendingly.</p> - -<p>"It's all right," replied John Thomas, "an' yo' bet I wisht I had -one just like it. There ain't no carpets ner tidies ner fixins. The -floor is painted kind o' red, an' the walls are red with all kinds -of posters stuck 'round. An' there's a border at the top made out of -sheet music with pictures on. My, it's great. Right in the middle of -the room there's a punchin' bag strung,—an' he's got dumb bells, -an' boxin' gloves, an' there's a case of all kinds of money, some -big name she called it, but it means, anyway, collectin' coins. He -uses two hair brushes at a time, without any handles to 'em, an' -there's a brush fer his teeth, an' a brush fer his hands, an' one fer -his nails, an' a thing to polish his nails, an' two brushes fer his -shoes, an' one fer his hat, an' another fer his clo'es."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">-58-</a></span></p> - -<p>Mr. Hennesy's jaw had dropped lower and lower during this recital. -Now he closed his mouth with an effort and looked fixedly at his son.</p> - -<p>"John Thomas," he said warningly, "you kape away from that loonytick. -Moind me, they're thryin' to take up his moind wid brushes an' -punchin' bags, but this kind is cunnin' as foxes, an' there'll be -mischief in the end. Moind now, what I say."</p> - -<p>"Why, pa," expostulated Marie Jean, with a giggle, "he ain't out of -his mind."</p> - -<p>"He is," insisted Mr. Hennesy stoutly. "Av coorse he is. Wid a brush -fer his hands, an' a brush fer his nails, an' another fer his teeth, -an' two widout handles fer his hair, an' wan fer his clo'es an' two -fer his shoes an' another fer his hat! Av coorse he is, an' there -takin' up his moind wid brushes. Moind what I say."</p> - -<p>"Don't expose yer iggerence, Mr. Hennesy," put in his wife -good-naturedly. "People uses all thim brushes nowadays."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">-59-</a></span></p> - -<p>"Well thin, if he ain't crazy, what kind of work does he be doin' to -nade all thim brushes to kape clean,—can ye answer me thot, Mrs. -Hennesy?"</p> - -<p>John Thomas gracefully turned the conversation. "She give me this," -he said, putting his hand in his pocket and extracting something -wrapped in tissue paper. "She said she had two others an' had been -thinkin' of puttin' this one in the box fer the sufferin' savages, -an' would I take it just to remember how we worked together over the -flower bed. So then I tuk it."</p> - -<p>"What do it be for?" inquired Mr. Hennesy, eyeing the strange object -with suspicion.</p> - -<p>"It's a nail file, to grind off yer finger nails,—if they grow -long enough," answered John Thomas, regarding his own broken nails -meditatively. "It's silver, too," he added.</p> - -<p>Mr. Hennesy sniffed. "I'll not be borryin' it," he observed. "I'm not -nadin' a file to kape me own nails short. The rocks I do be handlin'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">-60-</a></span> -iv'ry day, John Thomas, seems to be all that's required."</p> - -<p>Marie Jean's silvery laugh tinkled on the air as John Thomas returned -the file to his pocket and passed his plate for more cabbage.</p> - -<p>"Miss Billy's all right, anyhow," he went on, addressing his -conversation to Marie Jean, for the laugh rankled. "She ain't ashamed -if her name is Wilhelmina, or even Miss Billy: an' she don't have no -big bushy frizzes coverin' up her ears, an' she don't wear feathers -in her hat. She told me so herself."</p> - -<p>Marie Jean's laugh tinkled again, and she rose from the table. She -did not offer to help her mother wash the dishes, but swept into the -hall and took her hat down from the rack, preparatory to going down -town. It was a large black hat, heavy with buckles and plumes. She -adjusted it coquettishly on her head so that one plume hung directly -over her eyes, and took down her gloves.</p> - -<p>The vision that gazed back at her from the hall glass was certainly -an entrancing one, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">-61-</a></span> Marie Jean lingered for an experiment. She -lifted the heavy hair off her ears, tucked it up out of sight, and -holding back the waving plumes, gazed again. Then with a shrug of her -shoulders, she let hair and plumes fall, and swept out of the house.</p> - -<hr class="med" /> - -<p>On the other side of Number 12 Cherry Street Mrs. Canary was seated -on the doorstep with the Baby and the Other Baby in her lap.</p> - -<p>It had been a hard day for Mrs. Canary, for there had been an -unusual amount of deferred mending and cleaning as a grand round -up for the Sabbath. But now that the supper was over, she felt at -liberty to draw her first breath in the cool Spring air, while her -oldest daughter, Holly Belle, assisted by Ginevra, commonly known as -"Jinny," cleared away the remains of the evening meal.</p> - -<p>On the sidewalk in front of the house, Launcelot and Fridoline were -quarrelling over a catapult, while little Mike, sitting on the gate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">-62-</a></span> -post, was adding his shrill voice to the general tumult. Mrs. Canary, -who was a great lover of romance and revelled in the lurid pages of -the <i>Hearthside Companion</i> and kindred publications was responsible -for the high-sounding names of her children from Holly Belle to -Fridoline. When little Mike had arrived on the scene, however, -Policeman Canary had put his foot down on the cherished proposition -to name the boy Lorenzo.</p> - -<p>"You've done yer duty by all the rest of 'em," he said, "an' you've -named 'em a-plenty. Their own father has to call 'em 'say' when he -speaks to 'em. This one'll be Mike." And Mike he was.</p> - -<p>Owing to this difference of opinion between the heads of the -household, the two latest arrivals were still known as the "Baby," -and the "Other Baby." But Mrs. Canary, in spite of her romantic -tendencies and slip-shod ways, was a loving wife and mother, and -had done her easy-going best to make her husband and children -comfortable. Years of poverty and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">-63-</a></span> toil and trouble had not destroyed -the zest of living for her, nor altered her naturally sweet -disposition.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Canary hushed the two babies upon her breast, and rocked slowly -back and forth, making an improvised cradle of her body.</p> - -<p>Night came late in Cherry Street during the month of May, but the -dusk of the evening already enveloped the tiny porch. The night wind -blew in coldly across the lake. But Mrs. Canary, oblivious to the -chill in the air and the growing darkness, continued to read aloud, -in her eager absorption, from a folded paper held above the children:</p> - -<p>"'Two gleam-ing eyes looked out from the thick-et upon the moonlit -path, where the beautiful Lady Gab-ri-ell-e paced to and fro with her -lover. The moonlight shone full upon her robe of shimmering satin, -thickly en-crusted with pearls, and sparkled in the diamonds that -looped her fair tresses. Lionel Mont-fort bent ten-der-ly over her. -Burning love was written in every line of his handsome face, and -all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">-64-</a></span> thoughts of future en-grand-dise-ment were forgotten for the -nonce. "Darling," he murmured, "I have found my affinity, and nothing -shall come between us. Let my Lady mother rave,—nothing now shall -per-suade me to marry the countess."</p> - -<p>"'At this juncture there ap-peared upon the Lady Gab-ri-ell-e's -beautiful face a look of hor-ror that her lover never for-got. -"Treachery!" she cried, and pointed to the thicket. Her lover's eyes -followed her out-stretched finger,—but too late. A burst of flame -leaped from the thicket, two terri-bul shrieks rang out on the night -air——'"</p> - -<p>So intent upon the fate of the Lady Gabrielle was she, that she did -not hear, above the noise of the dish washing and the quarrelling -children, a genuine shriek that did ring out upon the night air. -It was not until little Mike pulled her gown with an excited -exclamation, that she came back to the world of reality.</p> - -<p>"What's that you say?" she said.</p> - -<p>Mike repeated his remark:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">-65-</a></span></p> - -<p>"Launkelot hitted a man wiv his catter pole."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Canary beamed with pride. "Launkelot always was a accurate -shot," she said fondly.</p> - -<p>At that moment the young marksman appeared at the gate. He was -shrieking at the top of his healthy young lungs, and was being -hurried along the ground by means of a strong arm which had united -itself with his ear. At the other end of the arm was a tall, fierce -old man, carrying a muddy top-hat in one hand, and hurrying his -victim along with the other. The rest of the hastily summoned Canary -flock brought up the rear of the procession.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Canary laid the two babies behind the door where they could not -be stepped upon in the melee, and faced the enemy boldly.</p> - -<p>"What's the matter here?" she inquired fiercely. "Let go that boy. -What's he done, I want to know?"</p> - -<p>"I will haf' the law on him already!" said the old man. His face was -fairly purple with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">-66-</a></span> rage and his voice shook so that the words were -hardly intelligible.</p> - -<p>"Leave go of him!" commanded Mrs. Canary, with spirit. Then her voice -changed as she recognised the man before her. "Oh," she said, in a -milder tone, "it's you, is it? Launkelot didn't go to hurt ye, I'm -sure. Leave go the boy, an' let him tell about it."</p> - -<p>The old man seemed not to hear her mollifying words.</p> - -<p>"He hung on to my buggy," he said, in angry tones, "unt when I tell -him to 'get off,' he answer me back. I lick him behind mit my whip, -unt he shoot me in the headt mit his snap gun——"</p> - -<p>"That wasn't the way it happened," said a clear voice above them.</p> - -<p>The excited little group glanced up quickly. A young girl stood -looking over the fence,—a girl in a white gown, with soft hair that -shone like copper in the lamplight.</p> - -<p>"Excuse me for interrupting," she said, "but I couldn't help hearing -your conversa<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">-67-</a></span>tion, and I want to tell you the whole story. I saw -you drive past, and the robe was hanging out of your buggy. This -little boy,—his name is Launcelot, isn't it?—ran out to put it in. -You called to him not to hang on, and he answered that he was only -putting in your robe for you. Without stopping to listen, you struck -him with your whip. It was a mean and cruel thing to do. Then he did -shoot at you with his catapult, but you can't blame him for that! I -should have done it myself if you had struck me."</p> - -<p>The old man stood gazing uneasily from one to the other during this -recital. He loosened his grasp of the boy with a muttered growl.</p> - -<p>"Why didn't you talk louder then?" he said to the astonished -Launcelot.</p> - -<p>An embarrassed silence fell upon the little group. The old man seemed -dazed by the unexpected turn affairs had taken. He stared off into -space, and shifted his weight from one foot to the other without -finding further words. Then he cast a hurried glance at the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">-68-</a></span> girl -standing above him, and shuffled off into the growing darkness.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Canary caught the young sharpshooter to her breast.</p> - -<p>"Ma's little hero-ine," she said fondly. "That's what ye get fer -doin' good to that old sarpint. But you was cleared all right, wasn't -ye? Thank the lady, Launkelot."</p> - -<p>"Launkelot" dug his bare foot into the floor, and murmured a few -words that might be interpreted as an expression of gratitude.</p> - -<p>"He is thankful, though bashful at the present moment," explained -Mrs. Canary gratefully. "He ain't usened to havin' young ladies in -white dresses, with hair of tarnished gold, springin' out of the dark -like flamin' seruphims to defend him."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I happened to be sitting on this side of the shelf, and I -couldn't help hearing what was said," answered the girl merrily.</p> - -<p>"The shelf, is it?" asked Mrs. Canary, looking puzzled.</p> - -<p>The girl laughed. "The piazza,—the porch,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">-69-</a></span> I mean. We call it the -shelf over here, because it's only about wide enough to set a pan of -milk on. We're your new neighbours, you know."</p> - -<p>"Well, it's glad I am to meet you," said Mrs. Canary heartily. -"Fridoline, be sure the babies' fingers ain't in that crack when -you lean against that door. We're glad to make your acquaintance -and thankful fer your defence of us: ain't we, Launkelot? You see -I couldn't rise in defence of my own innercent blood as swift as -usual—I was that surprised at finding out who it was he had hitten. -It was bold of you to talk that way to his face,—the old villain!"</p> - -<p>"Why, whom do you mean?" asked Miss Billy.</p> - -<p>"That was Mr. Schultzsky, the landlord," said Mrs. Canary.</p> - - - - -<hr /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">-70-</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"><span class="gesperrt">CHAPTER VII</span></a><br /> -<br /> -<span class="sm">TRIALS</span></h2> - -<p class="center bp msm">"Oh, how full of briars is this working day world."</p> - -<div><img style="margin-top: -.5em" class="decocap" src="images/deco-m.jpg" width="56" height="55" alt="M" title="M" /></div> -<p class="decocap">MISS BILLY had broken her shoe-string. There was not another in the -house and the clock pointed half past eight of a school morning.</p> - -<p>"If you're ready," said Theodore, putting his head in the door, "I'll -walk to school with you. I have something to tell you."</p> - -<p>"I'm not ready, and don't expect to be," said Miss Billy crossly, -giving the lace a pull and breaking it again. "There now, it can -never be tied. I shan't go to school at all this morning, so there!"</p> - -<p>Beatrice was shaking the pillows at the open window. "Why Wilhelmina -Lee!" she exclaimed,—"what a temper! How do you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">-71-</a></span> ever expect to get -through the world if the breaking of a shoe-string upsets you?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, it's all very well for you to moralise," retorted Miss Billy, -trying to repair the offending lacing, "you who have nothing to do -but stay at home and play lady, or do a little dusting. Look at -me,—going to school every day, taking two music lessons a week, 'way -back in my Latin, and those geraniums are not set out yet and it's -going to rain this morning. It's enough to make any one wish to die."</p> - -<p>"We've no time for a funeral this morning," said Mrs. Lee, bustling -cheerily into the room. "Beatrice, I shall have to ask you to wash -the breakfast dishes. Maggie's toothache is worse, and she is getting -ready to go to the dentist. I promised her that I would make the -pudding and put the bread into the pans."</p> - -<p>"Dear me," scolded Beatrice; "I was just going to sweep my room. -I can't put it off. Maggie has toothache rather too frequently, I -think, and dishwater just ruins my hands!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">-72-</a></span></p> - -<p>"Well, of all the howling dervishes this morning!" said Theodore in -the hall. "Miss Billy, come along if you're ready, and there'll be -one less."</p> - -<p>The minister stood in the doorway. He held Miss Billy long enough to -rub a finger gently over the pucker between her eyes.</p> - -<p>"It's a brand new day, daughter," he said lovingly. "It's not fair to -handicap it at the start with a frown."</p> - -<p>"I have troubles of my own," said Theodore gloomily, as they jogged -off to school together. "I've worked three Saturdays at Brown's, -beside Decoration day, and though I haven't drawn a cent of the -money, there is only forty cents coming to me."</p> - -<p>Miss Billy stopped short, and her books fell to the ground.</p> - -<p>"I'd like to know what kind of arithmetic you call that!" she said, -staring.</p> - -<p>"It's an example in profit and loss, and mainly loss," said Theodore -grimly. "Don't breathe it, Sis,—but treats have done it."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">-73-</a></span></p> - -<p>"Treats!" echoed Miss Billy. "You don't mean to say you have spent -three dollars and sixty cents in treats, in that length of time!"</p> - -<p>"It's awful when you come to look it squarely in the face," -acknowledged Theodore. "But the girls come in,—and they expect -it,—and what is a fellow to do?"</p> - -<p>"It's horrid of them, anyhow! And I'll cut their acquaintance,—every -one of them,—when I find out who they are!"</p> - -<p>"You'll do nothing of the kind," said Theodore haughtily. "I'll fight -my own battles, if you please."</p> - -<p>"Three dollars and sixty cents! If I had it in plants!" upbraided -Miss Billy.</p> - -<p>"Three dollars and sixty cents! If I had it in shoes!" mourned -Theodore.</p> - -<p>The wrinkles disappeared from between Miss Billy's eyes and she -laughed outright. "It's funny, anyhow," she declared. "And you're in -an awful position. I don't see how you are going to wriggle out of -it now. The girls have such confidence in you by this time,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">-74-</a></span>—and -Brown's sodas are the best in town, if they do come high."</p> - -<p>Theodore whistled through his closed teeth. "Laugh away, Miss Billy. -Add every grain of discomfort you can. But I'll wriggle out of it -sooner than you think. The one thing that worries me is the fear -that I'll have to put my hand down into father's pocket for my new -shoes—for that's what it amounts to. Of course I can pay him back in -a few weeks, but I hate to ask him for it just now."</p> - -<p>"I'll lend you my Christmas gold piece,—I'd love to, Ted."</p> - -<p>"Well, I should say not. I haven't come to the place yet where I -borrow from girls. And these shoes will be sandals before I borrow -from father, either. But you're a good fellow, Miss Billy."</p> - -<p>Miss Billy's face beamed, and she gave her brother's arm an -affectionate squeeze as they parted at the school door. "Every dark -cloud has a silver lining," she whispered comfortingly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">-75-</a></span></p> - -<p>"I wish my pocket had," responded Theodore gloomily. "Good-bye. Look -out you don't flunk in your Latin to-day."</p> - -<hr class="med" /> - -<p>The rain that had threatened all day held off, and Miss Billy hurried -home at four o'clock to plant her geraniums. Beatrice, looking very -cool and pretty in a blue dimity gown, stopped her in the hall and -drew her into the dining room.</p> - -<p>"I'm glad you've come," she whispered. "The Blanchard girls are in -the parlour making a farewell call before leaving for Europe. I want -you to go in and entertain them while I get the Apollinaris water -out of the refrigerator for a pine-apple frappé. Be nice and polite, -dear, and shake hands with them. And do be careful what you say. -Don't tell them how many rooms there are in the house, or how much -rent we pay, or hint at economy in any way. Run along now,—there's a -good sister."</p> - -<p>"I can't," objected Miss Billy. "I don't<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">-76-</a></span> like those Blanchard girls, -and I have to set my plants out."</p> - -<p>"Oh, please," begged Beatrice. "You must. They'll see everything -if they are left so long alone. Tuck your hair-pins in and hurry -along,—there's a dear."</p> - -<p>Very reluctantly Miss Billy made her way to the parlour. There was a -rustle of silk skirts as the Blanchard girls rose to greet her. "How -do you do?" said Miss Billy, in her best manner, making her voice and -outstretched hand as cordial as possible.</p> - -<p>"So glad to find you in," drawled Miss Maude, with a shade of -condescension in her manner. "We rode miles trying to find the -place,—we had forgotten your address, you know,—and when -we did find it,—what do you suppose?—it is the strangest -coincidence,—why, Casey, our coachman, don't you know, moved out of -this very house in April."</p> - -<p>"Well now, maybe that wasn't malice," thought Miss Billy hotly. "But -I promised Beatrice, so I'll go right on making myself<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">-77-</a></span> amiable." -"Yes?" she said aloud coolly. "Mrs. Canary has told me a great deal -about the Caseys, but of course I never thought of connecting them -with your John Casey. Indeed we've been so busy getting settled—that -sounds like coffee grounds, doesn't it?—and we've had so many of our -friends dropping in on us daily, that we haven't had time to think at -all."</p> - -<p>"Have you heard," lisped Miss Blanche, "that the Van Courtlands are -intending to join their daughter in Cologne, next month? We did so -wish we might sail with them, but Mr. Van Courtland thought we had -better not defer our plans, as his time was so uncertain. Have they -called lately?"</p> - -<p>"Well, I can't truthfully say they called, for Mrs. Van Courtland -brought a gingham apron with her when she came and helped mother -arrange the silver and china, and Mr. Van Courtland spaded half my -flower-beds for me. He used to be a farmer, you know, before he was a -banker."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">-78-</a></span></p> - -<p>The young ladies of fashion exchanged glances of surprise. When Miss -Maude spoke again there was trace of warmth in her manner.</p> - -<p>"You are quite cosily situated here; are you at all lonesome for the -old home in Ashurst Place?"</p> - -<p>"Well," said Miss Billy frankly, "I miss the bath-tub most awfully," -and the next moment could have bitten out her tongue. "That's the -first glaring indiscretion," she thought despairingly, "and there'll -be more if Beatrice doesn't hurry with that frappé."</p> - -<p>Miss Blanche smiled encouragingly. "Do you know," she confided, -"father thinks it was a great mistake, your moving here. He says he -thinks your father's position as rector of St. John's demanded an -entirely different course. Father says there are at least a dozen men -in the church that would have tided your affairs over. But ministers -are seldom good business men, and I suppose your father is no -exception<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">-79-</a></span> to the rule. How does your dear mother bear up under it?"</p> - -<p>"Under what?" asked Miss Billy. "You mean moving to Cherry Street? -Oh, mother is brave. She's like the young lady of Norway:</p> - -<div class="center"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -"Who casually sat in a doorway:<br /> -When the door squeezed her flat<br /> -She exclaimed 'What of that?'<br /> -This courageous young lady of Norway.<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p>"Beside, Miss Blanche, you are labouring under a delusion. I assure -you we enjoy our new home in Cherry Street."</p> - -<p>"Oh, it's very pleasant," conceded Miss Blanche hastily. "By the way, -what has become of that lovely little <i><span lang="fr">étagère</span></i> of yours? I missed it -the moment I stepped into the room."</p> - -<p>Miss Billy threw patience and prudence to the winds. "It's stored in -a storing-room," she declared. "The last time I saw it, there was a -bird-cage and a foot-stool on top of it.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">-80-</a></span> We had to pack a good deal -of our furniture. We haven't fourteen rooms now, you understand."</p> - -<p>"Good-afternoon, ladies," said a voice in the doorway. It was -Theodore, looking very mischievous. "I'm sorry I can't shake hands -with you,—but I've been giving a hand in the erection of the -conservatory on the south side—a fad of Miss Billy's."</p> - -<p>Miss Billy gasped. A conservatory! He must mean the glass sash he had -been fitting over the pansy bed!</p> - -<p>"We've been at no end of trouble and expense since we moved here," -went on Theodore. "You see it is the first 'place' we have really -had. There's one hundred and fifty feet of ground here. Beatrice -has planned for a sort of Southern California verandah from which -she can serve afternoon teas, and mother wants the lawn wired with -electricity for social purposes."</p> - -<p>"How delightful," murmured the guests, looking a bit uncertain, while -Miss Billy sat<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">-81-</a></span> rigidly upright, trying in vain to catch Theodore's -eye. Certainly, her mother had said that at the breakfast table, but -it had been a joke, nothing more.</p> - -<p>"I have a leaning toward an up-to-date stable and riding ponies, -myself," went on Theodore airily, and looking at Miss Billy now as -if to say: "No word of untruth in that!" "Still, there's the college -grind to consider,—I shall be qualified next year, you know,—and a -fellow gets precious little time for recreation."</p> - -<p>"Are you—ah—still at Brown's drug store?" interpolated Miss Maude, -looking mystified. "Sister Myrtle has spoken of seeing you there. The -child thinks so much of you."</p> - -<p>"And of ice-cream sodas," thought Theodore grimly. "Yes," he said -aloud, "Mr. Brown wanted me to help him out on Saturdays for a little -while. He's in the church, you know. But I shall give it up when -vacation comes."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">-82-</a></span></p> - -<p>Beatrice was entering with a dainty tray. "You'll pardon the delay, -won't you?" she said sweetly, as she offered the sparkling glasses. -"You'll have some, Miss Billy?"</p> - -<p>"No, I thank you," said Miss Billy, with heightened colour and a -hasty manner. "If you will excuse me I'll see to my geraniums. -Good-afternoon."</p> - -<p>"And I," said Theodore, "shall betake myself to the bathroom to -remove the unseemly signs of toil. I'll take my frappé with me, -Bea,—may I? Good-bye, girls. Write me from gay Paree when you reach -there," and Theodore followed Miss Billy into the dining room.</p> - -<p>"Well?" he asked interrogatively, as he seated himself on a corner of -the table to sip his frappé.</p> - -<p>"It's far from well, Theodore Lee," snapped Miss Billy reproachfully, -undecided as to whether to laugh or cry. "You told awful, unmitigated -falsehoods! You know you did!"</p> - -<p class="illo border"> -<img src="images/p82.jpg" width="500" height="713" alt="illustration" title="illustration" /> -</p> - -<p class="caption">“I have a leaning toward an up-to-date stable and -riding ponies, myself.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">-83-</a></span></p> - -<p>"My dear sister, I only enlarged upon truthful topics in a brilliant -and society-like way. Beside, I had to hand them back the small -change. I never in my life heard such stilted, patronising talk as -they were giving you. And when they jumped on father,—well, that -decided it. Good land, Sis,—what's the matter with this frappé!"</p> - -<p>"Don't drink it if you don't like it," said Miss Billy, refusing to -be friendly.</p> - -<p>"Like it! Why it's awful! It tastes like spruce gum and carbolic acid -and chloroform all mixed up. Smell it, Miss Billy."</p> - -<p>"When you were little, mother used to wash your mouth with soap when -you told falsehoods. It is probably some hazy recollection of that -which is perverting your taste."</p> - -<p>Theodore was taking another cautious sip. "It's a little like -sauerkraut, but it has the effervescence of soda water. It's the most -curious stuff I ever tasted."</p> - -<p>Miss Billy unbent sufficiently to put her nose to the glass.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">-84-</a></span></p> - -<p>"Why, it smells like yeast," she said wonderingly.</p> - -<p>"<i>That's</i> what it is," said Theodore, snapping his fingers -triumphantly. "I knew it wasn't chloroform or carbolic, but I -couldn't just name it. It's yeast!"</p> - -<p>"But what can yeast be doing in the frappé?" questioned Miss Billy -unbelievingly. Then as a sudden light broke upon her, she exclaimed, -"Oh, Ted,—Beatrice must have gotten the yeast bottle instead of the -Apollinaris water!—and for the Blanchard girls of all others! They -are in there trying to drink it now. What shall we do?"</p> - -<p>"Nothing," said Theodore decidedly,—"they've drank it by this -time. You watch how they will 'rise' to go. 'Sweets to the -sweet,'—likewise yeast to the yeasty. Dear girls,—how airily their -feet will spurn the pave. And it will do Miss Blanche good! She's as -flat as an oatmeal cracker."</p> - -<p>"Theodore, you ought to be ashamed of yourself!" Miss Billy was -almost crying<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">-85-</a></span> now. "Think of father when he hears all this,—and -Beatrice's feelings,—and the awful remarks they will make about -us——"</p> - -<p>"If you are looking for your handkerchief, you're sitting on it," -said Theodore soberly. "Don't cry, Billy. I am going to father now -and make a clean breast of the whole affair. There's no use staying -to console Beatrice about the yeast. She'll have fifty sporadic -spasms!"—and he strode from the room.</p> - -<p>"Oh, dear,—this has been a day of nothing but troubles," sighed Miss -Billy, wiping her eyes,—"and I lost my temper the very first thing -over a shoe-lace, and everything has gone crooked ever since. Poor -Beatrice,—she tries to be so nice and ladylike,—and I know she will -never get over this,—<i>never</i>!"</p> - - - - -<hr /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">-86-</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"><span class="gesperrt">CHAPTER VIII</span></a><br /> -<br /> -<span class="sm">THE STORY OF HORATIUS</span></h2> - -<div class="center bp"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -“They held a council, standing<br /> -Before the river gate.<br /> -Short time was there, ye well may guess<br /> -For musing or debate.<br /> -Out spake the council roundly<br /> -‘The bridge must straight go down,<br /> -For since Janiculum is lost,<br /> -Naught else can save the town.’”<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<div><img style="margin-top: .3em" class="decocap" src="images/deco-t.jpg" width="56" height="56" alt="T" title="T" /></div> -<p class="decocap">THE sun had risen early to get a good start, and at nine o'clock was -shining down with relentless fury on Cherry Street. Theodore was -wont to declare that the rain was wetter and the dew damper and the -sun hotter on this street than in any other portion of the inhabited -globe; and it was certainly true that the rows of small houses, -unprotected by trees or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">-87-</a></span> awnings, did look unusually torrid in the -broad glare of light.</p> - -<p>In the Lee house the shutters were closed and the green shades drawn -down, but the heat seemed to radiate from the painted door, on the -south porch, where a small red-headed boy was trying to ring the door -bell. It was a long reach for the little arms, and after raising -himself so high upon his tiptoes that he nearly lost his balance, he -gave up the attempt, and thumped lustily upon the panel. There was -no response. He waited a moment, his small bare feet squirming about -uneasily upon the hot floor, and then rapped a second time and a -third. At the last knock another small red-roofed boy appeared over -the top of the board fence that separated the Canary yard from the -Lee home.</p> - -<p>"Try it again," advised the owner of Red Head Number Two.</p> - -<p>"I have tried it lots of agains."</p> - -<p>"But ye ain't makin' no noise. Mis' Lee might be deef. Kick 'er a -little."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">-88-</a></span></p> - -<p>"Ain't got no shoes on," protested the little messenger.</p> - -<p>He had just raised his hand for a final rap when the door was opened, -and Mrs. Lee appeared upon the threshold.</p> - -<p>"Good-morning, Fridoline," she said pleasantly.</p> - -<p>Fridoline delivered himself of his message speedily: "Ma's got an -indisposhun and says please will you come over to wunst."</p> - -<p>"What is the matter with your mother?" inquired Mrs. Lee, puzzled by -the queer statement.</p> - -<p>"She's got rigours," responded Red Head Number One.</p> - -<p>"And her stummick's upset," added Red Head Number Two, across the -fence.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Lee was already untying her apron. "Tell her I'll be over there -right away," she said, as she left the door to explain her absence to -Beatrice.</p> - -<p>Miss Billy, coming in from an errand some time afterward, stopped -short at the sight of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">-89-</a></span> Holly Belle, who, with tear-stained cheeks and -red eyes, was emptying ashes into the street.</p> - -<p>"Why what's the matter, Holly Belle?" she asked.</p> - -<p>"Ma's sick," said Holly Belle, rubbing her sleeve across her eyes.</p> - -<p>"Very sick?"</p> - -<p>"I dunno. I guess she's pretty bad. She had highstericks this morning -at dawn, but she wouldn't let me call your mother until she was sure -by the smell of the coffee that you'd had your breakfast. I don't -know what's the matter with her. I gave her all the kinds of medicine -we had in the house, and there ain't none of 'em that seemed to do -her a mite of good. Your ma's here now, and she seems to be a little -better. But you know I heard the death tick in the wall, and I'm -scaret to death." And the tears rose again.</p> - -<p>"What's a death tick?" inquired Miss Billy, putting her arm -reassuringly about the sorrowing little girl.</p> - -<p>"It's a bug in the wall that always ticks<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">-90-</a></span> when people are goin' -to—to die," sobbed Holly Belle.</p> - -<p>"Pshaw!" exclaimed Miss Billy. "You don't believe that nonsense, do -you? I can't think your mother is as sick as that, anyway. Is the -doctor there?"</p> - -<p>Holly Belle shook her head.</p> - -<p>"Well then!" said Miss Billy triumphantly. "Mother would have had him -there long ago if your mother was dangerously ill. She'll probably -be all right in a day or two. Now cheer up, Holly Belle, and tell me -what there is that I can do for you."</p> - -<p>A loud shriek from the back of the house answered the question.</p> - -<p>"It's the children," said Holly Belle. "They've been going on that -way for an hour steady. I could make 'em behave, if it wasn't for -Launkelot. But he's got up a new game, an' of course they're all -bound to see it through."</p> - -<p>"May I borrow them for a while?" asked Miss Billy.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">-91-</a></span></p> - -<p>Holly Belle gave a visible sigh of relief. "I sh'd say you can," she -responded heartily.</p> - -<p>There was no difficulty in finding the children, for a great hubbub -in the back yard indicated that the small Canarys were having a -decidedly hilarious and enlivening time during their mother's -enforced retirement. Miss Billy went around the walk to the back of -the Lee house, and surveyed her charges over the fence.</p> - -<p>The back yard in the Canary premises had been partitioned off into -little squares by means of a boot-heel which had grooved the hard -dirt. In the first square sat Ginevra</p> - -<div class="center"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -"With raven ringlets unconfined,<br /> -And blowing madly in the wind."<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p>Her face and arms and bare legs were adorned with fantastic designs -in coloured chalk; and a frayed rope, attached by means of a -safety-pin to the hem of her dress, gave unmistakable evidence of a -tail. She was waving her arms violently, and giving vent to wild, -unearthly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">-92-</a></span> screams. Fridoline, in the next compartment, had wound -his fat body with coils of rope, which he was painstakingly chewing. -Tightly wedged into a dishpan in the third square, sat "Mixy" Murphy, -in an airy costume of shirt and drawers; while Mike, the Baby, and -the Other Baby were crawling about the ground in an abandonment of -delight.</p> - -<p>Miss Billy waited for a lull in the proceedings. When it came she -made haste to ask:</p> - -<p>"What in the world is all this?"</p> - -<p>Launcelot, who was strutting through the enclosure, armed with a -whip, took it upon himself to reply:</p> - -<p>"We're havin' a street carnival," he explained. "Fridoline is playin' -he's Bosco the Snake Eater, Jinny's Minnie the Wild Girl, an' Mixy -is the High Diver. You have to pay five pins to see him dive from -the fence to the tank. The Kids is camels, an' I'm boss o' the hull -outfit. Frid, jest show Miss Billy how much rope you can swaller -without gettin' black in the face."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">-93-</a></span></p> - -<p>Miss Billy hastened to prevent the heroic exhibition.</p> - -<p>"Oh, no," she said, "you needn't mind, Friddie. I've got something -else for you to do. Wouldn't you all like to come over and see me -this morning?"</p> - -<p>The Street Carnival Company gave vent to a wild yell of delight.</p> - -<p>"Well, pick up your things first," cautioned Miss Billy, "and then -come quietly so you won't disturb your mother. I'll be waiting for -you."</p> - -<p>"Picking up the things" was accomplished with neatness and dispatch, -and five little Canarys, two Murphys, and Leo and Pius Coffee, picked -up on the way, were seated in the shade of the Lee woodshed in solemn -and somewhat embarrassed silence when Miss Billy appeared to welcome -her guests. Her arms were full of scarlet and white reeds, a big -basket swung from one arm, and a mysterious-looking cloth bag from -the other. She glanced around the augmented group with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">-94-</a></span> such surprise -that Launcelot felt called upon to explain.</p> - -<p>"I brung 'em along," he said, with a lordly motion of his hand toward -the unexpected guests. "If you was goin' to give us something to eat, -an' there ain't enough to go round, they kin go home."</p> - -<p>"Launkelot!" exclaimed Jinny.</p> - -<p>"The Levis wanted to come, too," said Fridoline. "Their mother's -goin' to the sin an' God."</p> - -<p>"Goosey!" jeered Launcelot. "Sin an' God! He means synagogue. That's -one on you, Frid."</p> - -<p>Fridoline, moved to tears by his brother's taunts, set up such a -wrathful outcry that Miss Billy began to fear for her reputation as a -hostess.</p> - -<p>"Never mind, Friddie," she said consolingly. "You may go and invite -the Levi children to come now, if you want to. Hurry up, and we'll -have something nice planned for you when you get back." Miss Billy -depos<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">-95-</a></span>ited her burden on the ground. "I'm going to let you all help -with my work," she said,—"every one of you, from Ginevra down to the -Baby. These long strips are for baskets, and I'm going to show you -how to make them for yourselves. The big basket is for a pattern, and -the bag is full of flower seeds for the little ones to sort out, and -take home for gardens of their own."</p> - -<p>The guests fell upon the work with great alacrity.</p> - -<p>"Wait a minute," protested Miss Billy. "We're not ready yet. We must -always wash our hands before we begin to work."</p> - -<p>This announcement dampened the ardour of the children.</p> - -<p>"Them as sorts seeds don't need to wash, do they?" asked Fridoline.</p> - -<p>"I choose to sort seeds!" came in a chorus from the smaller guests.</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes, they do," responded Miss Billy decidedly. "Why not, -Friddie?"</p> - -<p>"Dirt makes seeds grow," argued Fridoline.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">-96-</a></span></p> - -<p>"Not till they're in the ground," returned the hostess. "We'll all go -up to the back porch to wash. I've got some cool water up there."</p> - -<p>A thorough and painstaking scrubbing took place on the back porch, -for Jinny, who was appointed Inspector of Persons, performed her -duties with impartial vigour and energy. Her delight in the toilet -soap was extreme, and she modestly requested a bit of it "to take -home for a sample."</p> - -<p>Beatrice and Maggie watched the proceedings with disgust, and -the children themselves did not look upon the occasion as one of -unalloyed pleasure; but Miss Billy was resolute, and the entire -throng were at least clean down to their necks and up to their wrists -when they took their places on the grass.</p> - -<p>Fridoline surveyed his hands gloomily. "If I'd 'a' known I had ter -wash I wouldn't have came," he said.</p> - -<p>"Friddie!" exclaimed Ginevra reproachfully.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">-97-</a></span></p> - -<p>"Fridoline doesn't think that's a very nice way to treat company," -laughed Miss Billy. "He's like Horatius.</p> - -<div class="center"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -"'And see,' he cried, 'the welcome,<br /> -Fair guests, that waits you here!'"<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p>"What's Hurashus?" asked Ginevra shyly.</p> - -<p>"Oh, he's a man in a story," responded Miss Billy. "The man who -fought so bravely."</p> - -<p>Launcelot pricked up his ears at the word "fought." "Who did he -fight? Tell us about him," he commanded.</p> - -<p>"Yes, please do," begged Ginevra.</p> - -<p>"As soon as I get your work started for you," promised Miss Billy.</p> - -<p>Her nimble fingers wove the bright reeds in and out for a few -minutes. The children gathered near; Ginevra settled The Baby on her -lap, and pulled the Other Baby close to her side. Then slowly and -carefully, as if to find words suitable for her childish audience, -Miss Billy began:</p> - -<p>"It happened many years ago when Rome<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">-98-</a></span> was the biggest and the finest -and the richest city in the world, that there was a brave soldier and -gallant knight named Lars Porsena."</p> - -<p>"Two of 'em?" questioned Fridoline.</p> - -<p>"No, only one. Lars Porsena was the soldier and the knight too. And -because he was angry at one of the Romans he decided to lead a great -army against them. You know what an army is?"</p> - -<p>"Hoh! I sh'd say so! Soldiers!" replied Launcelot.</p> - -<p>"I know <i>you</i> do," said Miss Billy, "but I thought the other children -might not know."</p> - -<p>"I'll explain it to 'em," said Launcelot loftily. "Kids, you remember -Buffalo Bill's men that was to the Shooting Park?"</p> - -<p>The little Canarys loudly proclaimed the excellence of their memory.</p> - -<p>"Well, them's soldiers," said Launcelot. "Go on, Miss Billy."</p> - -<p>"So he gathered his troops from everywhere—north and south and east -and west—till he had a great big army. There were ten<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">-99-</a></span> thousand -horsemen, and twenty thousand men on foot. And with music playing and -banners flying and the sunlight glittering on their spears, they set -off towards Rome with Lars Porsena at the head."</p> - -<p>"Just like Buff'lo Bill," said Fridoline.</p> - -<p>"Sh," admonished Ginevra.</p> - -<p>"Sh, yourself," retorted Fridoline defiantly.</p> - -<p>"In the meantime the Romans knew they were coming, and they went down -by the river gate to talk it over. The Tiber river flowed by the -city, and there was a big bridge——"</p> - -<p>"How bid?" inquired little Mike.</p> - -<p>"I don't know how big, but it was very large indeed," went on Miss -Billy, "so that the enemy had to cross it before they could get into -the city. And there they waited until a messenger came flying up the -hill to tell them that Lars Porsena and his great army were very -near. They looked over to the west, and they saw the great cloud of -dust coming up from the road."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">-100-</a></span></p> - -<p>"What was they goin' to do?" asked Jinny.</p> - -<p>"Why bust into the city an' kill the Romans," answered Launcelot. "Go -on, Miss Billy."</p> - -<p>"And the Romans knew that they would kill them all if they once got -across the bridge," continued the historian. "And they hurriedly -talked about what it was best to do. And then one of them had a plan. -He was a wonderfully brave and noble man, and he wasn't afraid of -anything."</p> - -<p>"Bet he'd been scaret of a hyena," said the oldest Levi boy.</p> - -<p>"He was not afraid of anything. And this was his plan. He told the -Romans that he would get two other men and alone they would cross the -bridge and meet the enemy on the other side. This is what he said:</p> - -<div class="center"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -"'Hew down the bridge, sir consul,<br /> -With all the speed ye may;<br /> -I, with two more to help me<br /> -Will hold the foe in bay,—<br /> -In yon straight path a thousand<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">-101-</a></span><br /> -May well be stopped by three.<br /> -Now who will stand on either hand<br /> -And keep the bridge with me?'"<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p>"Did they talk in po'try?" inquired Ginevra with awe.</p> - -<p>"Sometimes," said Miss Billy. "And two other brave men volunteered -to go with him. The three crossed the bridge together, and boldly -faced the army on the other side." The little Canarys showed signs -of restlessness, and the young Murphys yawned, so Miss Billy went on -hastily. "Of course there was a terrible battle there. Every time a -man set foot on the bridge Horatius or one of his companions would -rush upon him and slay him."</p> - -<p>"How? With a spearer?" inquired Aaron Levi with interest.</p> - -<p>The story teller nodded. "Till seven men lay dead, and Horatius -himself was wounded in the shoulder. The big army stood still. Their -chief was killed, and no soldier dared to move. Meanwhile the Romans -had been at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">-102-</a></span> work at the bridge with their axes, and it hung over -the river just ready to fall. The three men knew they must get back -before it dropped. They started, but the great bridge cracked, and -went down with a crash like thunder. Two of the men had time to get -over safely, but Horatius was too late. He had darted back, and stood -all alone on the bank of the river, with the enemy before him, and -the broad river behind him. And then what do you think he did?"</p> - -<p>"Speared 'em some more," suggested Aaron Levi.</p> - -<p>"Died fer his country," quavered Ginevra.</p> - -<p>"Waded home," said Fridoline.</p> - -<p>"No, the water was too deep. He sheathed his sword, and faint and -weary though he was, plunged into the raging flood."</p> - -<p>"Gee!" ejaculated Launcelot.</p> - -<p>"The water was very high, his armour was heavy, and his wound pained -him severely; but he kept on. The blood ran down upon his hands, and -he sank again and again; but he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">-103-</a></span> still swam on till not only the -Romans, but the great army on the other bank cheered him and prayed -for him.</p> - -<p>"And when he finally clambered out upon the shore, weary and weak and -worn, they shouted and clapped their hands for very joy." The ringing -words came involuntarily to Miss Billy's lips:</p> - -<div class="center"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -"'And still his name sounds stirring<br /> -Unto the men of Rome,<br /> -As the trumpet-blast that cries to them<br /> -To charge the Volscian home;<br /> -And wives still pray to Juno<br /> -For boys with hearts as bold<br /> -As his who kept the bridge so well<br /> -In the brave days of old.'"<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p>"And the big army didn't ever get in?" asked Frank Murphy.</p> - -<p>"No, never."</p> - -<p>"What did they do to Horashuss?" inquired Launcelot.</p> - -<p>"Oh, they gave him a lot of land, for his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">-104-</a></span> own, and they set up a -great statue of him."</p> - -<p>"I seen statutes already," said Abraham Levi.</p> - -<p>"You did not," said his brother Aaron.</p> - -<p>"I did too. I seen 'em in the summitery."</p> - -<p>"He means the grave yard," explained Ginevra. "Aaron, stop hitting -your little brother."</p> - -<p>"He's a-swipin' my seeds," complained Aaron.</p> - -<p>"Well, stop it, both of you," said Launcelot decidedly, "or Miss -Billy'll give you a bat in the eye."</p> - -<p>The threat had the desired effect. Both of the little Levis subsided -suddenly.</p> - -<p>"You may take the seeds home and plant them yourselves," said Miss -Billy. "There are nasturtiums and petunias to put into a bed and -morning glories and flowering beans to train over porches. We'll all -have gardens of our own."</p> - -<p>"You've got a pretty yard," said Ginevra wistfully.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">-105-</a></span></p> - -<p>"It's getting green," responded Miss Billy. "The grass seed is all -coming up over the bare spots. Now if you had a green lawn extending -to ours, and that shabby old fence between us was down——"</p> - -<p>"Why don't you pull it down?" inquired Launcelot.</p> - -<p>"I know Mr. Schultzsky would never let me," said Miss Billy. "I -wouldn't dare ask him. But it's so old and rotten that some day it -will just fall down itself, and then we'll have a barberry hedge -there, and the yard will begin to look like something."</p> - -<p>"What's a berbarry haige?" inquired Launcelot.</p> - -<p>"A nice little row of bushes trimmed evenly, so that it makes a low -fence," explained Miss Billy. "Listen, children, some one is calling."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Lee, who had come around the walk, smiled down at the little -group on the grass, whose full hands and happy faces bore testimony -of a pleasant morning. "Your mother<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">-106-</a></span> will be all right in a day or -two," she said, "and Holly Belle wants you to come home for dinner."</p> - -<p>The children rose with reluctance.</p> - -<p>"Kin we come again?" asked Ginevra wistfully, as she gathered her -little charges.</p> - -<p>"Of course you can," said Miss Billy. "I'd love to have you here, if -you like to come. How would you like to spend two hours with me every -Saturday morning?"</p> - -<p>"What 'ud we do?" inquired Launcelot.</p> - -<p>"Oh, lots of pleasant things: We can sew and read, and play games, -and sing. I can find enough for you to do, never fear."</p> - -<p>"How much do we have to pay?" inquired Aaron Levi cautiously.</p> - -<p>"Not a cent," laughed Miss Billy. "The only price is clean hands and -face. We'll meet out here in the yard, and I'll raise children as -well as flowers. You'll be my child garden, you see. Come at nine -next Saturday, and we'll have another good time."</p> - -<p>The children filed happily around the corner<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">-107-</a></span> of the house, all -talking at the same time, but their voices lowered as they passed -out of vision. They held a whispered conversation as they passed the -rickety fence, Launcelot expressing some iconoclastic sentiments -in a husky undertone. They were still whispering as they entered -the Canary yard, and edged mysteriously along the side of the house -between the porch and the fence.</p> - -<p>"It'll be just like playing Horashuss," urged Launcelot.</p> - -<p>"But what would Miss Billy think?" asked Ginevra doubtfully.</p> - -<p>"You heard what she said. She'd think it was brave!" said Launcelot -in his most lordly tones.</p> - -<p>"But s'pose some one would see?" quavered Ginevra.</p> - -<p>"Aw pshaw! They ain't no one a-goin' to see. And if they do, what -then? Go in if you're afraid."</p> - -<p>Ginevra hesitated.</p> - -<p>"Miss Billy'd like it," went on the tempter.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">-108-</a></span> His sister flung -prudence to the winds. "I'll help," she said.</p> - -<p>Holly Belle's voice rang out impatiently a second time:</p> - -<p>"Child-run, din-ner."</p> - -<p>"We'll be there in a minute," called Launcelot impatiently. "Now -hurry up, kids. Take a-hold, here. No, not so near together. Now, I'm -going to count. When I say three, you all pull like the dickens, and -then run, lickety split. Get out of the way there, Mike."</p> - -<p>The children grasped the rotten palings.</p> - -<p>"One—two—three," counted Launcelot.</p> - -<p>The little army gave a mighty tug. The rotten wood splintered, split, -yielded; the fence fell with a crash, and a sorry mass of decayed -boards covered the yard.</p> - -<p>The children waited to see no more, but rushed about the house as -though old Mr. Schultzsky himself was in their wake.</p> - -<p>Launcelot and Ginevra turned at the basement steps to help little -Mike, who had fallen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">-109-</a></span> upon his face in the stampede. From his place -of vantage Launcelot glanced around to see if they were being -pursued. There was no one in sight, and all was still.</p> - -<p>"Now," said Launcelot boldly, "Miss Billy can have her berbarry -haige."</p> - - - - -<hr /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">-110-</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"><span class="gesperrt">CHAPTER IX</span></a><br /> -<br /> -<span class="sm">BEATRICE</span></h2> - -<div class="center bp"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -“And he who wins the fight with Self<br /> -Has won the bravest battle.”<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<div><img style="margin-top: .3em; padding-bottom: 2px;" class="decocap" src="images/deco-g.jpg" width="56" height="56" alt="G" title="G" /></div> -<p class="decocap">GOOD-BYE, Miss Billy."</p> - -<p>"Good-bye, Beatitude. You're a dear to help me off in this way. I -won't forget it in a hurry."</p> - -<p>"All rightie. See that you don't."</p> - -<p>"And Bea, don't vex your soul over that mending basket. It's only one -stitch in nine that saves time, you know."</p> - -<p>"I won't, but you'd better make haste; you'll miss the boat."</p> - -<p>"A miss wouldn't be as good as a mile then, would it? Good-bye, -again. Yes, mother, I <i>have</i> a handkerchief. Also a corkscrew for the -olives. Also my rubbers. Good-bye, everybody."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">-111-</a></span></p> - -<p>Miss Billy was going to a picnic, and in her usual way. The whole -house had been in an uproar since six o'clock. There had been a -hurried dressing, a hurried breakfast, and a hurried packing of -lunch; and it was not until the blue linen suit disappeared around -the corner that a lull fell over the home, and the household paused -to take breath.</p> - -<p>There were still the remains of the preparations for lunch to be -cleared away, the study to be made clean, and the disorder which was -left in Miss Billy's wake to be remedied. Her sister's work added -to her own took Beatrice longer than usual, and it was ten o'clock -before she came languidly into the garden with the mending basket -under her arm. She tumbled out a large bundle of ragged stockings, -and set to work.</p> - -<p>It was hot and deserted on Cherry Street. Even in the shade, where -Beatrice sat, the air was sultry and close, and the garden seat warm -to the touch. The children seemed to have melted away from sidewalk -and gutter. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">-112-</a></span> absence of Miss Billy and Theodore had left the -place unnaturally dull and forlorn, and the incessant tick-tick of -the little creatures in the grass was the only sound that broke the -stillness.</p> - -<p>Beatrice's thoughts flew with her needle. Last year at this time the -whole family were at Gordon's Lake for the season. And it had been -such a gay summer. A summer of boating and dancing; of driving and -golfing, of pretty clothes, and new friends and good times. A summer -of long, jolly, merry days, and of long, cool, restful nights. A -summer that seemed made for the merriment that only ended when the -last good-byes were said.</p> - -<p>And now everybody else was going away; the Seabrookes, and the Van -Courtlands and even the Blanchards; and they were to be left at -home. It was all right for the rest of the family; Theodore hated -"resorts," and Miss Billy never seemed to care for anything so long -as she had her beloved books and flowers and children. "But I care," -thought Bea<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">-113-</a></span>trice bitterly, "more than I ever thought I should care -for anything."</p> - -<p>It was easy enough to be good when one was happy, when good friends -and pleasant times and pretty clothes were one's birthright; but when -poverty and hard work was one's portion, when one's clothes were -shabby and when one lived on Cherry Street——! A hot tear baptised -Theodore's gay striped sock, and Beatrice, forgetful of her age -and dignity, put her head down on the garden seat, and like little -Cinderella, "let the tears have their way."</p> - -<p>The stout, rosy-faced man who came up the front walk and rang -the door bell did not look like a fairy godmother, but the most -beneficent fairies go about disguised. Beatrice was so busy wiping -her eyes that she did not notice his arrival, and as she went bravely -back to work she little guessed the surprise that was in store for -her. Not even the glad note in her mother's voice when she called her -into the house made her suspicious.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">-114-</a></span></p> - -<p>The rosy-faced man was leaning up against the door of the study, -smiling benignantly at Mr. and Mrs. Lee. He beamed even more -delightedly as Beatrice entered.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Lee scarcely waited for their greeting. Her eyes shone as she -put her hand on her daughter's shoulder, and her voice was very happy -as she said:</p> - -<p>"Guess, dearie, what Mr. Van Courtland has come for. He wants you to -go abroad next week."</p> - -<p>The self-possessed Beatrice lost her dignity. She grew rosy with -delight and gasped speechlessly for a moment before she ejaculated -brokenly:</p> - -<p>"Me? To go abroad? Oh, mother!"</p> - -<p>That "oh, mother!" settled the matter, Mrs. Lee decided at once that -she must go.</p> - -<p>"It will not be a very long trip," explained Mr. Van Courtland. "We -did not intend to start until later, but that bugbear 'business' -stands like a fence between me and the rest of the world. Be -thankful, Lee, that you are not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">-115-</a></span> a banker. Mrs. Van Courtland and I -shall sail on the 16th, land seven days later, and go immediately -to Cologne for Margaret. We hope to be in Germany long enough -for the Rhine trip, but shall probably sail for home immediately -afterwards. We planned to borrow Miss Billy to take with us, but Mrs. -Van Courtland says that the sea breezes will be just the thing for -Beatrice's pale cheeks. She ought to see you this minute, young lady. -You're anything but pale and wan now."</p> - -<p>Beatrice did not even notice the compliment. Her brain was moving -faster than Mr. Van Courtland's words. Europe, sea breezes, the -Rhine! To leave the heat and dust of the city, the shabbiness and -noise of Cherry Street, for the enchanting country across the sea. -It seemed like a glorious dream of white-capped waves and cool -breezes, from which one must wake up to the swarming Canarys and the -loud-voiced Hennesys on Cherry Street.</p> - -<p>"And if she goes, she goes as our guest. Mrs. Van Courtland dreads -the trip, and I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">-116-</a></span> confess a lingering longing for a young piece of -humanity when I am aboard ship. As for our own Margie,—why she will -jump out of her beloved Germany with joy when she sees a glimpse of -her home friend. We will consider it a great favour if you'll lend us -your girl for a while."</p> - -<p>The matter was hurriedly decided. Mrs. Lee looked over at her husband -with a quick glance that showed how much motherly love and anxiety -for her daughter was at stake. The minister answered with a nod and a -smile that seemed to say, "We must manage it."</p> - -<p>Mr. Van Courtland departed satisfied, and Beatrice returned to the -garden seat to dreamily wind the darning cotton into a snarl, and -whisper joyfully to herself, "I am going abroad."</p> - -<p>There was a family council after supper that night. Beatrice had -rather dreaded to tell Miss Billy the glorious news, feeling that the -trip was originally planned for the younger<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">-117-</a></span> sister, but Miss Billy -sternly frowned upon her sister's reticence.</p> - -<p>"The idea!" she said scornfully, "of thinking that I should be -so mean and small about a thing like this. You would have been -delighted if this trip had come to me,"—Beatrice made a small mental -reservation—"and it belongs to you anyway. You need it more than I -do."</p> - -<p>If she felt any disappointment she failed to show it either in action -or word, but went on making extravagant plans, and most elaborate -suggestions for the trip. She offered to lend Beatrice anything and -everything she possessed, from her cut glass vase to her ice cream -freezer, and the last thing the elder sister heard that night was a -recipe for sea sickness and an idea for making over a travelling suit -out of Miss Billy's brown gown.</p> - -<p>It was daybreak when Beatrice awoke. The house was very still and -quiet, and the light morning breeze blew aside the white curtains at -the windows. Beatrice raised herself on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">-118-</a></span> one elbow and looked out -at the little glimpse of water visible between the high roofs. The -sun was rising, away out on the breast of the lake, and each little -ruffled wave was touched with a crest of gold.</p> - -<p>Beatrice was not often affected by her surroundings, but just now, -in the light of her new happiness, the day seemed symbolic of her -life, and the sun that gilded the grey waves like the pleasant plan -that had made her sombre life glad. Yesterday's grief seemed very far -away, and to-day's joy was very near and dear. She clasped her hands, -and whispered earnestly: "Help me to deserve it, Lord." The sounds -of the two whispered voices which came from the next room did not -disturb her, and she lay dreamily happy in her own thoughts, until -the sound of her own name aroused her. It was her father's voice that -said:</p> - -<p>"Well, Beatrice needs it. We must manage it some way."</p> - -<p>The girl turned her head, and listened intently as he continued:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">-119-</a></span></p> - -<p>"How much money is it going to cost us?"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Lee's estimate was not discernible, but her husband's reply -betrayed its tenor:</p> - -<p>"I wish a hundred dollars came as easily to me now as it did six -months ago."</p> - -<p>"I don't see how we can do it for any less," said Mrs. Lee. "Bea's -wardrobe is scanty, and she will require more clothes than she -needs when she is at home. Beside, she will have to have money for -incidentals. Mr. Van Courtland is very generous, but we don't want to -impose on him, or embarrass Beatrice."</p> - -<p>"Oh, no, she can't get along with any less. Still, it will be a -little hard to spare just now. I feel our poverty most when it -touches the children."</p> - -<p>"It <i>is</i> a good deal, but I think it's worth the sacrifice. Beatrice -has looked white and worn lately, and we can't afford to let her be -sick."</p> - -<p>"I hadn't noticed it," said Mr. Lee anxiously. "Do you think she's -not well?"</p> - -<p>"It's heart sickness as much as anything else. Bea has never seemed -happy since we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">-120-</a></span> moved onto Cherry Street. She misses the old home and -the old friends. She was not so easily reconciled as Wilhelmina and -Theodore."</p> - -<p>"Then I think more than ever that we must manage it. I shall not -regret the effort if she comes back physically improved. After -that I'll trust the mental and moral indisposition to take care of -themselves. Bea is not naturally pessimistic."</p> - -<p>"But I don't see exactly how we are to arrange it. We are living so -near to our income just now; and I don't know how to economise more -closely than I have been doing."</p> - -<p>Mr. Lee made a suggestion that Beatrice did not hear, to which his -wife replied decidedly:</p> - -<p>"No, dear man, you can't get along without that. A minister can't -afford to go shabby. We'll find some other way of saving. I can let -Maggie go home for a month or two. Beatrice's going away will make -the family<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">-121-</a></span> smaller, and I'm sure Wilhelmina and I could do the -housework."</p> - -<p>"No indeed." The minister's voice was most emphatic. "That would be -extravagant economy. You would be sick in a month. I can spare the -money, I'm sure, but I shall have to give up a cherished plan to do -it. I hoped to be able to rent a horse and buggy for you two days a -week this summer. You don't get enough of out of doors, and it tires -you so to walk."</p> - -<p>There was a glad little note in Mrs. Lee's reply that went straight -to Bea's heart.</p> - -<p>"Oh, if that is all!" she exclaimed. "Why John, I'd rather never -drive again than to have Beatrice miss this opportunity. It will mean -so much to her. Beside, dear, do you think I would enjoy driving -around in state while my husband was shabby?"</p> - -<p>"No, it doesn't sound like you," said Mr. Lee. "Still, I would like -to do it for you," he added wistfully.</p> - -<p>"Well, dear, don't say a word to spoil Bea<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">-122-</a></span>trice's pleasure. She -seemed so glad to go! And I think we all would be willing to -sacrifice ourselves a little for her sake."</p> - -<p>The conversation ended there. The father and mother went back to -sleep, and the eavesdropper returned to her pillow with wet eyes. Her -soul, as well as her body, was wide awake, and perhaps for the first -time in her life, Beatrice realised the beauty and divineness of self -sacrifice. In the light of the whispered conversation the melancholy -of the day before seemed petty and unworthy, and the girl who sternly -choked back the tears of disappointment was not the girl who had wept -in the garden. Nobody ever knew of the struggle which took place in -the little white bed, nor was any the wiser for the puddle of tears -that made a miniature lake in the pillow; but Beatrice was victor in -the battle with herself.</p> - -<p>As the clock struck five, a slim little figure in white crept -silently out of bed, and tiptoed over to the desk, that Miss Billy -should not be wakened. A stranger would not have appre<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">-123-</a></span>ciated the -depth of the struggle; but to Beatrice it was the tragedy of a -lifetime, and there was real heroism in the letter which read:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p>"<span class="smcap">Dear, Dear Mr. Van Courtland</span>:</p> - -<p>"I hope you won't think I am silly to change my mind so -suddenly, after all the arrangements were made yesterday, -but I have decided that I must not go. I know that you -won't misunderstand my motive, because you know how much I -long to go, and how grateful I am to you both for inviting -me.</p> - -<p>"Father and mother both are willing that I should go, but -I know that my trip would mean a big sacrifice on their -part, which I am not willing to accept. You and Mrs. Van -Courtland have always been so kind to me that I am sure -you will understand what I mean, and help me to do what is -right.</p> - -<p>"I can never tell you how grateful I am to both of you.</p> - -<p class="center">"Lovingly yours,</p> - -<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Beatrice Lee</span>."</p> -</div> - - - - -<hr /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">-124-</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"><span class="gesperrt">CHAPTER X</span></a><br /> -<br /> -<span class="sm">A BROKEN SIDEWALK</span></h2> - -<div class="center bp"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -“Does he study the wants of his own dominion?<br /> -Or doesn’t he care for public opinion<br /> -<span class="i14">A JOT?</span><br /> -<span class="i11">The Akond of Swat.”</span><br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<div><img style="margin-top: .3em" class="decocap" src="images/deco-m.jpg" width="56" height="55" alt="M" title="M" /></div> -<p class="decocap">MISS BILLY entered the study with an agitated whirl of ribbons and -hair. Her hat was off, her face flushed, and every curl stood on end.</p> - -<p>"What do you think I have discovered?" she said in indignant tones.</p> - -<p>Beatrice looked up calmly from her mother's chair. Mr. and Mrs. -Lee were spending the day away from home, and the elder daughter -responded to the question with a little air of authority that was -particularly exasperating to Miss Billy in her present mood:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">-125-</a></span></p> - -<p>"If you had asked what you had <i>lost</i> I should know," she said -coolly. "Your temper has evidently gone astray."</p> - -<p>"I know I'm foolish to blaze up so suddenly," admitted Miss Billy; -"but it's the injustice of the thing that made me hot. Mrs. Canary -has just been telling me how much rent the Caseys paid for this -house."</p> - -<p>"How much was it?" inquired Beatrice. "Less than we are paying?"</p> - -<p>"Fifteen dollars instead of twenty," said Miss Billy indignantly. -"But of course I wouldn't say a word about it if old Mr. Schultzsky -had made the repairs he promised. He hasn't lived up to his agreement -at all. We paid for having the house painted; father furnished the -screens; Theodore mended the gate, and I propped up the back fence, -myself. That window upstairs is still broken, and when Ted reminded -him of it he grunted and remarked that the cold weather was over. -The doorbell is out of order, the step is broken, and that walk in -front of the house is a disgrace<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">-126-</a></span> to the world. The whole tottering -skeleton of a house will fall in a heap some day. If we pay twenty -dollars a month for rent, as we agreed, he is going to do the things -he agreed to."</p> - -<p>"How are you going to bring this law of equality about?" inquired -Theodore.</p> - -<p>Miss Billy hesitated. The conferences with the landlord in the past -had not met with any visible amount of success. Still there were -forces which had not as yet been brought to bear. Miss Billy decided -quickly, as was her custom.</p> - -<p>"What he needs is some one to tell him a few unvarnished truths," she -said energetically. "Father is too easy to deal with him, and mother -is too ladylike. I'm going to interview him myself."</p> - -<p>"Billy the Bold!" exclaimed Theodore. "My heart swells with pride at -your courage. Where and when is the interview to take place?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know," said Miss Billy dubiously.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">-127-</a></span> "I don't believe he has -an office, and I hate to go inside that mouldy old shell across the -street. I have my suspicions about his living there, anyway. He looks -as though he slept in that old buggy of his."</p> - -<p>"You might advertise and arrange a meeting that way," suggested -Theodore. "'Sprightly maiden of sixteen wishes to meet a scholarly -and refined gentleman of sixty-five. Object, new sidewalk, and what -may follow.'"</p> - -<p>"I've half a mind to tackle him to-day," said Miss Billy musingly. -"The rent is due, and I might soften the blow with a generous bill. -I believe I'll try it. Give me the rent money, Theodore. I'll get a -promise out of him, or die in the attempt!"</p> - -<p>"Do you mean to say you're going to pay him the rent yourself, and -express your sentiments then?" asked Theodore.</p> - -<p>"Yes, I do," returned Miss Billy stoutly.</p> - -<p>"What shall you say to him?" asked Beatrice, with a note of -admiration in her usually<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">-128-</a></span> even voice, for Miss Billy never looked -prettier than when she stood in her face-the-world attitude, with -eyes big and earnest and face aglow.</p> - -<p>"She will arm herself with the butcher-knife and the rent money," -jeered Theodore, "and meet him at the door. And, withering him -beneath her stern and forbidding glance, she will say: 'Move at the -peril of your life. Mend the doorbell, put in the glass and fix the -front walk before you speak a word. Stand and deliver.' And he will -remark, like Riley's tree-toad, 'Don't shoot, I'll come down'; and -ask, yea, beseech her to permit him to go for his tack hammer."</p> - -<p>"Well, we need the improvements badly enough," said Beatrice, -"but I don't think you'd better try it, Wilhelmina. It seems so -bold,—somehow. Besides, you won't get anything out of him."</p> - -<p>"Just you wait and see," said Miss Billy confidently.</p> - -<p>It was about an hour later that Mr. Schultz<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">-129-</a></span>sky's thin horse stopped -at the gate, and Mr. Schultzsky himself shuffled up the narrow walk -to the front door.</p> - -<p>"Here comes your victim, Sisterling," announced Theodore cheerfully. -"Do you feel that you need me for a witness, or to preserve the -dignity of the occasion?"</p> - -<p>Billy took off her sweeping-cap, and slowly adjusted the safety pins -at the back of her shirt-waist.</p> - -<p>"Just let him wait a while," she said. "That'll show him that the -bell is out of order." But in spite of her savage words she met him -at the door smilingly.</p> - -<p>"Good-morning, Mr. Schultzsky," she said cordially. "Will you come -in?"</p> - -<p>For answer Mr. Schultzsky held out his monthly account.</p> - -<p>"Oh, the rent bill!" responded Miss Billy. "You're like the stork, -Mr. Schultzsky, that always comes around with a big bill. But I want -to talk with you a few minutes. Won't you come in?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">-130-</a></span></p> - -<p>The landlord ignored the feeble joke, and gave a stolid grunt, which -Miss Billy interpreted as a refusal. "Well," she said, sitting down -on the doorstep, "if you won't come in I suppose I can talk to you -here. Mr. Schultzsky, perhaps you noticed that our doorbell is -broken."</p> - -<p>The old man made no reply, and Miss Billy went on:</p> - -<p>"The window upstairs has never been mended——"</p> - -<p>Mr. Schultzsky shuffled his feet uneasily, but gave no other sign of -having heard her speech.</p> - -<p>"And our front walk is so broken that it will be the death of -somebody some day," continued Miss Billy. She paused for a response, -but none came.</p> - -<p>"When we came in here you promised to put the house in good repair -for us," said the girl desperately, "but you have not kept your word. -Everything that is new about the premises <i>we</i> have added. Theodore -put up<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">-131-</a></span> the fence, and has been puttering around the place ever since -we moved in; the bill for painting and papering the house was sent -to father (I never should have paid it if I had been in his place), -although you promised to have it done. The whole house is shaky on -its legs, and weak in its joints, and yet we are paying you big rent -for it. I found out to-day that you are charging us five dollars a -month more than you did the last tenants."</p> - -<p>Did Miss Billy imagine it, or was there a gleam of avaricious triumph -in the half-closed eyes? "You are not dealing fairly with us!" she -exclaimed wrathfully. Then, in a more amiable tone, she added: "We -<i>want</i> to be good tenants, you know; but aren't you going to make any -of your promises good?"</p> - -<p>Mr. Schultzsky took out his dingy bandanna and mopped his forehead. -He made neither apology nor protest. "The rent is due," he said. Miss -Billy's cheeks glowed as she meekly handed out the bills. "Maybe -they'll<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">-132-</a></span> make him more responsive," she thought to herself.</p> - -<p>The landlord folded them, put them carefully into a huge wallet, and -placing the rent account against the side of the house, receipted the -paper in a queer cramped hand. Then thrusting it into her mechanical -grasp, he turned, and without another word, shuffled off down the -walk.</p> - -<p>He hesitated at the gate and turned. "Good-morning, ma'am," he said. -Then climbing into the rattle-trap, he drove rapidly away. Miss -Billy, left alone on the doorstep, was torn by conflicting emotions. -Angry as she was, she could not fail to see the humour in her -ignominious defeat. And she was not the only one who was amused. The -screen in Theodore's window came down with a bang, and a boyish voice -chanted:</p> - -<div class="center"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -"B was once a little Bear,<br /> -Beary, wary, hairy, beary,<br /> -Taky cary, little bear."<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">-133-</a></span></p> - -<p>Miss Billy at once retorted:</p> - -<div class="center"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -"G was once a little goose,<br /> -Goosy, moosy, boosey, goosey,<br /> -Waddly-woosy, little goose,"<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> -<p>and added, "Did you hear our conversation?"</p> - -<p>"<i>Our</i> conversation! I heard <i>yours</i>. Is Mr. Schultzsky going to fix -the premises, or did he raise the rent?"</p> - -<p>"The old icicle!" scolded Miss Billy. "I couldn't get a word of -satisfaction out of him. When he skewered me with those sharp eyes of -his I couldn't talk."</p> - -<p>"His glances would be in good demand in this family," remarked -Theodore. "I'm glad you got slammed, myself. You were so all-fired -smart about making an impression on him. I suppose you thought that -when you had an axe to grind he'd run at your bidding with the -cheerful expression of the lion on the Norway coat-of-arms. You've -got your come-up-ance, Miss Billy."</p> - -<p>His sister deigned no reply.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">-134-</a></span></p> - -<p>"What are you going to do about the sidewalk?" inquired her tormentor.</p> - -<p>"Fix it myself," said Miss Billy haughtily.</p> - -<p>"I'd like to see you do it," said Theodore. "It will be the second -thing you've made a failure of on this bright and beautiful holiday."</p> - -<p>"Wait and see," said Miss Billy, with determination in her step. She -made her way to the pile of packing boxes in the cellar. "They won't -make very good lumber," she said to herself, "but they're all I can -get without sacrificing my own modest and retiring income. Beside, I -suppose they will be easier to work with than heavy planking would -be." It took time and strength to knock the boxes to pieces, and -measure the boards; but Miss Billy was a born carpenter, and Ted's -parting words added impetus to the task. An hour later, Beatrice, -attracted by the noise of hammering in front of the house, looked -out of the window. Down on her knees on the front walk was Miss -Billy. She had on a chemistry apron made of gorgeous striped ticking, -which was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">-135-</a></span> much stained by chemicals used in the school laboratory. -A hideous garden hat was perched rakishly on her head, and a pair -of Theodore's old gloves protected her hands. Her face was flushed, -and her hair towsled; but two of the rotten planks in the walk had -already been replaced by clean new ones, and the young carpenter was -nailing down a third with great energy. Five of the Canarys and a -varied assortment of Murphys and Levis were grouped around the spot, -making a most appreciative audience.</p> - -<p>Beatrice waited to see no more. She threw on a hat, and rushed to the -fence.</p> - -<p>"Wilhelmina Lee!" she exclaimed angrily.</p> - -<p>Miss Billy raised a moist and somewhat grimy face.</p> - -<p>"What are you doing?" inquired Her sister.</p> - -<p>"Mending the walk," answered Miss Billy, articulating with some -difficulty, for her mouth was full of nails.</p> - -<p>"Well I should think you'd be ashamed," said Beatrice with spirit.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">-136-</a></span></p> - -<p>"I regret to say that I am a trifle ashamed," said Billy, removing -the nails. "I have a miserable kind of false pride that fills me with -dread lest any one of the Blanchard type see me doing honest labour. -That's why I put this apron on,—for a disguise, you know."</p> - -<p>"You needn't worry about concealing your identity," responded -Beatrice angrily. "Nobody in the world but you would come out in full -view of the public to make an exhibition of herself."</p> - -<p>Miss Billy turned to her childish audience. "The public don't seem to -be shocked," she said.</p> - -<p>"If mother were home——" began Beatrice.</p> - -<p>"Well, she isn't," responded Miss Billy coolly, "and I'm hoping to -finish this walk before she gets back. You'd better go in, Bea. The -chips may hit you."</p> - -<div class="center"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -"Although through life she'd stride and stalk,<br /> -She put some boards in father's walk,"<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p>chanted Theodore, looking over the fence;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">-137-</a></span> "Goodness, Miss Billy, -have you done this much yourself? You are not only a model of -industry, but a talented carpenter. I suppose now I'll have to -acknowledge my defeat, and come and finish the job."</p> - -<p>"You certainly will <i>not</i> have to finish the job," retorted Miss -Billy, "although I shall be glad to hear your humble apology."</p> - -<p>"Don't you want any help?"</p> - -<p>"No," returned his sister stoutly.</p> - -<p>"I'm sorry," said Theodore, hanging his coat on the fence, "for I'll -have to work 'agin your will.' It isn't that I distrust your ability, -Miss Billy, but I should hate to have the neighbours say 'Look at -that poor Lee girl laying a walk to save her brother's white and -shapely hands.'"</p> - -<p>Miss Billy heaved a sigh of relief. "I have to confess that I shall -be glad of your help," she said. "I know now what it means to go -'agin the grain.' Every one of those boards grew in that way."</p> - -<p>"Sit on the curbstone and boss the job,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">-138-</a></span> commanded Theodore, "while -your talented brother performs on the saw for a while. Miss Billy, in -spite of all that flumpy motion of yours, I am still proud of you. -You haven't much in the way of gait, but you have lots of grit."</p> - -<p>The last visitor was John Thomas, who was returning from the grocery. -He stopped at the sight of Theodore, who was driving nails and -fitting boards, and sending Miss Billy into gales of laughter with -his droll remarks.</p> - -<p>"Would you be likin' help?" inquired John Thomas timidly.</p> - -<p>"No, no, indeed," responded Theodore promptly. "Shall I let your -ruthless hand have any share in this matchless work of art? Perish -the thought! Why, John Thomas, this walk is my masterpiece, the -work that shall live after me. Behold in me the Michael Angelo of -sidewalks. After my death people will gaze upon this construction -with tears and pride, and my monument will bear flattering mention of -my prowess."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">-139-</a></span></p> - -<div class="center"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -"Although his gift was mainly talk,<br /> -He put some boards in father's walk,"<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p>said Miss Billy, with a sly twinkle.</p> - -<p>"That's too good to be impromptu," accused Theodore. "You made that -up in the privacy of your apartments, and have been waiting for the -chance to spring it on me. Now you observe what sisters' taunts are, -John Thomas."</p> - -<p>"I know already," said John Thomas. "That darn Mary Jane——"</p> - -<p>"Tut, tut, John Thomas," interceded Miss Billy. "Marie Jean is not as -bad as she is painted."</p> - -<p>"Or powdered," added John Thomas with a sardonic grin.</p> - -<p>"How's that for a highly coloured statement, Miss Billy?" asked -Theodore impudently.</p> - -<p>Miss Billy tried to look severe, but the dimples would show in spite -of her efforts. John Thomas gazed at her merry face admir<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">-140-</a></span>ingly. "I -wisht you was my sister," he said. "You can make fun over people, -without making fun <i>of</i> 'em. Mary Jane is the most provoking—say, -don't you want me to help you, honest?"</p> - -<p>"Not now," said Theodore. "We have to go back to school this -afternoon, and there are no more planks left, anyway. I'll tell you -what you <i>can</i> do, John Thomas. If you'll help me finish this, next -week, I'll turn in afterwards, and help you mend the broken planks in -yours."</p> - -<p>"All right," assented John Thomas, not unwillingly.</p> - -<p>"We'll show old Abraham Schultzsky-czaravitch that we don't need his -help," continued Ted; "and the people on Cherry Street how sidewalks -ought to look. What shall I do with those decrepit places near the -gate? There isn't another board in sight."</p> - -<p>"Dear me," said Miss Billy. "We should have begun at the other end of -the walk, where the planks are in the worst condition. Some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">-141-</a></span> one will -be sure to go through those two old boards, and break a leg or two -before next week."</p> - -<p>"Maybe it'll be old Moneybags himself," suggested Theodore cheerfully.</p> - -<p>"I hope it will," said Miss Billy.</p> - - - - -<hr /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">-142-</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"><span class="gesperrt">CHAPTER XI</span></a><br /> -<br /> -<span class="sm">WEEDS</span></h2> - - -<div class="center bp"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -“Witch-grass and nettle and rag-weed grope,—<br /> -<span class="i1">Paupers that eat the earth’s riches out,—</span><br /> -Nightshade and henbane are lurking about,<br /> -<span class="i1">Like demons that enter in</span><br /> -<span class="i2">When a soul has run waste to sin.”</span><br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<div><img style="margin-top: .3em" class="decocap" src="images/deco-j.jpg" width="56" height="55" alt="J" title="J" /></div> -<p class="decocap">JUNE, departing, had scattered her wealth of floral treasures wide -over the land, and Cherry Street, lowliest child of her adoption, -had not been forgotten. Under the wholesome influence of trowel, -watering-can, and good black soil Miss Billy's garden had grown -apace, and now burst into such a riotous excess of bloom as brought -the small Cherryites to the fence in groups of silent adoration. Beds -of scarlet geraniums glowed like the heart of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">-143-</a></span> rubies on the green -lawn. Sweet peas were opening their pretty eyes and peeping over into -Mr. Hennesy's yard. June roses, white, pink, and blood red, swung on -their stems breathing incense night and day, while on the side of the -house bloomed the pansy bed, hundreds of pretty faces of many colours -and marvellous size. Over the back fence nasturtiums were opening -their golden hearts, and a group of tall hollyhocks stood boldly -disputing right of way with the arms of the Hennesy clothes reel.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Hennesy had been sweeping, and now she stood in the upstairs -window looking down at the floral display in her neighbour's yard.</p> - -<p>"It do be lookin' loike a park, Mary Jane," she commented at last. -"Mrs. Casey was a good neighbour an' its mesilf that'll niver be over -missin' her,—but she niver had things lookin' loike that. An' it's -that girl—'Miss Billy,' as they call her,—that's done it all."</p> - -<p>Marie Jean, who had condescended to the menial task of setting her -bureau drawers to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">-144-</a></span> rights, turned her head slightly. "Well," she -commented indifferently, "if she wants to waste her time on an old -garden I suppose it's nobody's business but her own."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Hennesy discreetly waived the argument. "I think I'll be goin' -over there to see thim this afthernoon, Mary Jane. They're that noice -an' frindly it ain't roight for us not to be goin' near thim. Miss -Billy has axed me twice to have you come over. It ain't neighbourly, -Mary Jane,—that's what it ain't."</p> - -<p>"Well, go on if you want to," said Marie Jean, beginning to hum a -tune to show the matter was too trifling for further consideration; -but she broke off to add, "wear your bead cape and your lace bonnet -if you do go."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Hennesy's face took on a look of despair. "Well now, Mary Jane," -she began, "it's just a neighbour, an' a clane apron——"</p> - -<p>"You must wear your bead cape and your lace bonnet," reiterated Marie -Jean, with spirit. "And be sure you go to the front door. You must go -decently, or not at all."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">-145-</a></span></p> - -<p>Mrs. Hennesy departed from the room, and presently went down the -stairs in all the glory of her best dress, augmented by the bead cape -and the lace bonnet. Marie Jean secretly surveyed her through the -crack of the door, and returned to her task somewhat mollified. "I -guess they won't find anything to laugh at in that bead cape," she -said, with a toss of her head.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Hennesy passed out through the kitchen door, but returned again. -She drew off her black silk mitts, stepped to the stairs to see if by -any chance Marie Jean was listening, and tiptoed back to the kitchen -cupboard. She looked uncertainly into the coffee can which was quite -full, then into the tea caddie which was half full, and finally shook -the sugar box, which responded roundly. "Well, I'll borry some tea, -annyway," she whispered, and taking a cup, secreted it carefully -under the bead cape. Thus fortified, she passed around to the front -gate, and, thankful that Marie Jean's point of vision could no -longer<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">-146-</a></span> command her actions, hurried around by way of the pansy bed -to her neighbour's side entrance and rapped at the door.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Lee responded to the summons. "Why, it is Mrs. Hennesy," she -said cordially, extending a hand to welcome her neighbour. "Do come -in. It is cooler here in the dining room than in any other place in -the house at this time of the day, so we'll sit right here. Beatrice, -won't you take Mrs. Hennesy's cape and bonnet?"</p> - -<p>"Well, now, I can't stay a minute," protested Mrs. Hennesy, in her -soft Irish brogue. "I must be goin' back to start supper fer Mr. -Hennesy, fer he gets no dinner these days but the bite he takes wid -him in a pail. An' I only stepped over to see if I c'ud borry a -drawin' of tea fer his supper. Me an' Mary Jane has been that busy -all day we c'udn't get to the store."</p> - -<p>The cup was filled with the desired "drawing of tea," and stood -in readiness on the table, but as the minutes sped, Mrs. Hennesy, -warm<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">-147-</a></span> and perspiring, but loyal for Marie Jean's sake to the bead -cape, began to feel more at ease. Mrs. Lee was not like Mrs. Casey, -it was true, and could never fill her place,—but she would make a -good neighbour,—and the girls were as pretty as pictures with their -contrasting styles of beauty and pretty dresses.</p> - -<p>Of course, they were not to be compared with Mary Jane. Mary Jane -was—well, more dressed-up like and stylish, than these Lee girls. -But they were nice and kind, and treated their mother like a queen. -Mrs. Hennesy wished Mary Jane might be there to see it.</p> - -<p>"Sure an' Mary Jane will be in to see you wan of these days, soon," -said Mrs. Hennesy as she rose to terminate her call. "It's bashful -she is, or else jealous, wid John Thomas soundin' Miss Billy's -praises all day long. It's 'Miss Billy says this,' an' 'Miss Billy -does that,' an' he thinks Mary Jane can't hould a candle to Miss -Billy,—an' that's the thruth of it."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">-148-</a></span></p> - -<p>"And I think John Thomas is a jewel," declared Miss Billy warmly. "I -wouldn't have a flower now if it wasn't for him. Do come out and look -at them, Mrs. Hennesy,—and carry a bouquet to your daughter from me."</p> - -<p>"Well now,—if them ain't lovely," declared Mrs. Hennesy, as Miss -Billy began culling with a generous hand. "An' thim ould fashioned -hollyhocks, as sassy as you plaze. Another summer an' I'll be havin' -some fer mesilf."</p> - -<p>"You may have slips and seeds from all my plants," responded Miss -Billy generously, "and John Thomas could easily bring the dirt."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Hennesy shook her head doubtfully. "It's wades I'd be after -raisin'," she protested. "Sure an' flowers don't be growin' fer ivery -wan loike they do fer you."</p> - -<p>"Weeds!" Miss Billy took up the words dolefully. "Mrs. Hennesy, weeds -are making my existence miserable. Look at my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">-149-</a></span> hands from keeping -the weeds down. But it's no use,—look there!" She pointed as she -spoke, up and down Cherry Street, and Mrs. Hennesy's following glance -took in a long vista of rank vegetation flanking every sidewalk -and dooryard, weeds great and small, broad and feathery, tall and -diminutive, flaunting their rank growth in the hot sunshine.</p> - -<p>"Well, thim's not all yours," said Mrs. Hennesy consolingly. "There's -none in your yard, so ye needn't care."</p> - -<p>"Oh, but I see them, and I hate them so!" said Miss Billy -despairingly. "And the seeds are beginning to blow over here. The -plantain and dandelions are killing my new grass already."</p> - -<p>"Well, wheriver there's good, there's bad," said Mrs. Hennesy -philosophically: "An' if the good stopped tryin' an' quit what w'ud -become of the world, I'd loike to know? Hould fast to yer flowers, -Miss Billy, an' remimber whereiver wan of thim grows a weed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">-150-</a></span> can't," -with which comforting advice the kind-hearted Mrs. Hennesy, holding -fast to Marie Jean's bouquet and the borrowed cup of tea, took her -departure.</p> - -<p>The setting of the sun brought relief to Cherry Street. Every tiny -porch held its household group, and the clear moonlight and cool -breeze brought recompense for the glare and toil of the day. By -degrees the noisy laughter and outcries of children waned and ceased, -the murmured talk of their elders died away, and the street was -wrapped in slumber.</p> - -<p>It was then Miss Billy came softly from her room, clad in a flowing -wrapper. She listened longest at Theodore's door, till, satisfied -by his heavy breathing that he slept, she descended the stairs and -stepped out into the moonlight.</p> - -<p>Mingled with the perfume of her roses came the rank breath of the -weeds, bringing malarial poisons to the sleepers of Cherry Street. -Mrs. Hennesy's words came uppermost in her mind.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">-151-</a></span> "Wherever there's -good, there's bad,—and if the good stopped trying, what would become -of the world?" "Well, I'm going to help all I can, and I'm going -to commence on Mr. Schultzsky's premises." She caught up a sickle, -crossed the sidewalk jubilantly, and bumped into another pale wraith, -sickle in hand, who straightened himself suddenly from the O'Brien -weeds.</p> - -<p>"John Thomas Hennesy!" she exclaimed. "How you frightened me! What -are you doing out here at this time of night?"</p> - -<p>John Thomas wiped the honest drops of toil from his brow and regarded -her sickle suspiciously. "I'm cutting weeds. I've cut our own and now -I'm cutting Canary's. What are you going to do, I'd like to know?"</p> - -<p>"I'm going to cut Mr. Schultzsky's," said Miss Billy, in a gay stage -whisper. "No,—not a word, John Thomas,—I want the satisfaction of -laying those weeds low myself."</p> - -<p>"Well if she ain't a reg'lar brick!" said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">-152-</a></span> John Thomas admiringly, as -the swish of her sickle came across the street to his ears. "Catch -Mary Jane taking a sickle in her lily white hand to——"</p> - -<p>The rest of his sentence was lost in the sound of his own sickle as -it played dexterously among the O'Brien weeds.</p> - -<p>There were other ears than John Thomas's on which fell the swish of -Miss Billy's keen blade that night. Two eyes peered down from an -open window of the Schultzsky house on a girl kneeling in the very -dooryard. A girl who might have been mistaken for a saving angel -with the moonlight on her wavy hair and flowing gown. A girl who -attacked the weeds in a very fury of resentment, and scattered their -rank growth in every direction. The eyes peered and peered, and then -withdrew,—but gave no sign.</p> - -<p>It was ten o'clock the next morning when Miss Billy came sleepily -down to her breakfast. Theodore met her with suspicion lurking in his -eye, but sang carelessly:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">-153-</a></span></p> - -<div class="center"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -“The lark is up to meet the sun,—<br /> -<span class="i1">The bee is on the wing:</span><br /> -The ant its labours has begun——<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p>"Say Sis, who cut all those weeds last night?"</p> - -<p>"Theodore," said Miss Billy pathetically, with a nervous sense of -aching muscles, and a weariness on which his raillery grated, "is -there any breakfast?"</p> - -<p>"There is," said Theodore; "I couldn't half eat mine, I was so -excited. I've been bursting to tell you the news for two hours. -Guess, Sis, what's happened?"</p> - -<p>"What?" said Miss Billy, looking apprehensive. That it was something -portentous she knew from Theodore's manner.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Schultzskyczarovitch fell through the rotten planks of our -sidewalk this morning at eight o'clock, and broke his leg, even as -you wished."</p> - -<p>"Oh," said Miss Billy faintly, and then for no reason at all -collapsed in a little heap to the carpet.</p> - - - - -<hr /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">-154-</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"><span class="gesperrt">CHAPTER XII</span></a><br /> -<br /> -<span class="sm">LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD</span></h2> - -<div class="center bp"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -“Will you please to go away?<br /> -That is all I have to say.”<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<div><img style="margin-top: .3em" class="decocap" src="images/deco-m.jpg" width="56" height="55" alt="M" title="M" /></div> -<p class="decocap">MRS. CANARY was, literally speaking, behind the times. The weekly -edition of that romantic sheet, the <i>Household Times</i>, had just -arrived, and the mistress of the house had been unable to resist -the temptation to "lose herself" in its crackling folds for a few -minutes. It was Sunday morning, and the Sabbath to the Canary family -meant the dressing of five children for attendance at a house of -worship. There was a strong odour of soap and sanctity about the -little home, but the mother was reading aloud, totally oblivious to -the noise and confusion surrounding her:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">-155-</a></span></p> - -<p>"Si-lunce reigned in the great hall as the Duke faced his quack-ing -vik-tum. The res-o-lute blood of his dough-ty ancest-ers shone in his -deep eyes. 'I little expect-ed this of you, Phil-lup,' he said at -last. The cring-ing slave fell abjeck-ly at his feet, without a word. -The calm un-im-passioned voice per-ceeded. 'Fate has played you a -sorry trick,' it said.</p> - -<p>"The man gru-vel-ing at his feet made no reply, but the Duke's keen -eye caught the gleam of a shining blade. 'Traitor, Mis-cre-ant,' he -hissed, 'would you play me false in my own hall?' and he fell upon -the fiendish form."</p> - -<p>From the Duke's hall to the Canary kitchen was only a step. In -the latter place the long-suffering Holly Belle was having a -discussion with Fridoline as to the merits of church-going for the -rising generation. Fridoline was determined of chin, and fiery of -disposition, and at the early age of seven had conceived a violent -aversion to the ritual of faith, and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">-156-</a></span> proper observance of -the Sabbath. The following patient monologue floated through the -half-closed door:</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes you will, Fridoline. Every one goes to Sunday School.... -Here's the blacking all ready for you.... No, you can't wash first. -What's the use of getting clean and then gauming yourself all up -agin?... Black the <i>heels</i> of the shoes. Yes, they do show, too.... -No, Friddie dear, please don't put on that clean collar until you -wash your neck. Let me help you wash.... Well, I won't, if you don't -want me to, but you are never pertic'ler about the edges, you know -you ain't.... Stop brushing Mike's hair with that blacking brush!... -Friddie, I'll tell Ma!... No, your neck ain't clean, an' your ears -are a sight. Let me take that rag a minute. No, I won't get your coat -collar wet.... Don't work your face that way, Friddie; it can't be -as stiff as that.... Well, don't <i>open</i> your mouth, <i>then</i> you won't -taste it.... Stop<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">-157-</a></span> hitting my elbow.... Fridoline Canary!... I hate -to tell on you, but if you don't stop I will.... Ma, make Friddie -stop!"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Canary, putting her forefinger between the pages of the Duke's -history, came to the doorway and looked in,—the picture of grieved -amazement.</p> - -<p>"Why, Fridoline," she exclaimed. "Why do you hurt that loving sister -of yours? Elbows is tender in ladies. Holly Belle, I wouldn't be too -pertic'ler about the edges. He was washed good last Wednesday."</p> - -<p>"Sh'd say I was," growled Fridoline, looking vengefully at his -sister. "They's no need of making me as wet as wash-day agin. Holly -Belle's too doggoned clean."</p> - -<p>"Ye look as shiny as a new mirror," said his mother proudly. "There's -nothing like Ivory soap for bringing out all there is in a man. You -look every inch a policeman's son. Now your uncle Weatherby, who -holds a government position at Washington, D.C.——"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">-158-</a></span></p> - -<p>"Do I have to go to Sunday School, ma?" whined Fridoline.</p> - -<p>"Don't interrupt, Friddie dear," said his mother mildly. "You put me -all out of mind of what I was goin' to say. Certainly you do have to -go to Sabbath School. I ain't goin' to have it said that I ever let -circumstances interfere with religion."</p> - -<p>"I hate Sunday School," complained Fridoline; "I don't get no good -going."</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes you do, son," encouraged his mother. "You learn lots. Didn't -you get promoted from primary to secondary less'n a month ago?"</p> - -<p>"Yes," growled the boy, "en the only difference is that ye put a -nickel in the collection instead of a cent. I'm goin' to be changed -back agin."</p> - -<p>"No, ye ain't," said his mother decidedly. "You get that church down -on ye, and ye'll miss the Sunday School picnic. But I'll tell ye what -ye can do, Friddie. After the picnic ye can all make a change and -go to Mr. Lee's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">-159-</a></span> church. The Weatherbys have always been Baptists, -but out of compliment to Mr. Lee I'm willin' to let you change. He's -been so nice and neighbourly that I think he's deserved it. We won't -say nothing about it, and some fine day we'll surprise him by five -shinin' faces increasing his aujence."</p> - -<p>The idea of a picnic and a surprise facilitated the dressing, and -a half hour more saw the departure of the five Canarys in all the -splendour of cleanliness and handed-down clothes. Mrs. Canary, -standing in the doorway, viewed them with pride.</p> - -<p>"Now mind yerselves," was her parting instruction. "Ye look like a -little herd of white doves, and see that ye act so. Holly Belle, -don't forget to lend Mikey your handkerchief when necessary. And -conduct yerselves right during divine services."</p> - -<p>"There goes Miss Billy," she added to herself, as her own little -brood rounded the corner. "As chipper as a sparrer, an' a-carryin' -something to the needy, I should judge by that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">-160-</a></span> Haverland chiny dish -in her hand. Land o' love! She's turnin' into old man's Schultzsky's!"</p> - -<hr class="med" /> - -<p>A pudgy little maiden in a large rocking chair sat swinging back -and forth upon Mr. Schultzsky's dilapidated porch as Miss Billy -approached. The stolid Bohemian face was neutralised by the effect of -two blonde pig-tails, which were braided so tightly as to give her a -scared and hunted expression. She looked more frightened than ever as -the visitor ascended the rickety steps.</p> - -<p>"Good-morning!" said Miss Billy.</p> - -<p>The little girl stopped the motion of the chair and stared at the -newcomer.</p> - -<p>"This is a nice place to sit."</p> - -<p>The little girl's eyes grew rounder, but she made no reply.</p> - -<p>"Does Mr. Schultzsky live here?" went on Miss Billy.</p> - -<p>The child caught the familiar name, and nodded.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">-161-</a></span></p> - -<p>"Is he in bed?"</p> - -<p>"<span lang="cs">Ja ne rozumim</span>," said the little maid.</p> - -<p>"Do you suppose he would see me?"</p> - -<p>"<span lang="cs">Ja ne rozumim</span>."</p> - -<p>"Goodness!" said Miss Billy to herself. "This is worse than taking -the census. I wonder what language the child is talking. I'm sure -it's not German or French or Latin or Greek. I might try her on -hog-latin. I never saw a child who couldn't understand that. -May—I—see—Mr.—Schultzsky?" she persisted in the loud and emphatic -way that one always uses with a foreigner.</p> - -<p>The little girl stared at her in a frightened way.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Schultzsky? In?" asked Miss Billy desperately.</p> - -<p>The child looked about her with a hunted and terrified expression. -Then she rose from her rocking chair, and backed hastily down the -steps, keeping a safe distance between herself and the caller. "<span lang="cs">Ja ne -rozumim</span>," she gasped, and disappeared around the house. Miss<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">-162-</a></span> Billy -turned to the door. She looked about for a bell, but finding none, -rapped upon the unpainted panel. There was no answer. A second knock -only brought an echo which reverberated through the shell of the -house.</p> - -<p>She hesitated a moment, and then stepping timidly inside, found -herself in a tiny box of a hallway which seemed to extend from the -front door to the back. Two doors opened into the hall and Miss Billy -paused irresolutely at one. A sound of heavy breathing came from -within, and she knocked lightly.</p> - -<p>"Come in," growled the voice of Mr. Schultzsky, and Miss Billy -entered. The inside of the house proved even more uninviting than -the outside. The room was small and low, with broken plastering, and -soiled hemp carpet on the floor. The only window was closed, and the -ragged green shade drawn tightly down. A musty odour, as of ancient -food and air, pervaded everything.</p> - -<p>On a narrow bed in the corner lay Mr. Schultzsky with a ragged -blanket drawn up<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">-163-</a></span> over his head to exclude even the faint light. Over -the foot board dangled three flat irons at the end of a rope—an -improvised weight for the injured leg. Miss Billy caught her breath -at the sight.</p> - -<p>Mr. Schultzsky evidently heard the sigh. He threw his arms out -uneasily, but his head remained in eclipse. His muffled voice came -from beneath the blanket:</p> - -<p>"<span lang="cs">Chvatej, Johanna, Ja mam hlat</span>."</p> - -<p>Miss Billy started to speak, but Mr. Schultzsky interrupted.</p> - -<p>"Get me something to eat. Quick," he ordered.</p> - -<p>The first sentence was unintelligible to Miss Billy, but the command -was clear. A wild plan of propitiating the old man seized her. She -turned to the hall without a word.</p> - -<p>The small room adjoining was evidently the kitchen, for a rusty stove -stood at one side, and a few shabby dishes were ranged in a cupboard -on the other. A half loaf of bread, a piece of salt pork, and a cup -partially filled with tea<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">-164-</a></span> stood on a shelf. There was no other food -in sight. The fire had burned low, but Miss Billy poked the coals -together and added some fuel.</p> - -<p>"<span lang="cs">Ne davej vec nes jeden</span>," called a muffled voice from the next room.</p> - -<p>"He's probably advising me to save on fuel," thought Miss Billy, -little guessing how nearly she had arrived at the truth.</p> - -<p>She filled the tea-kettle, set it over the blaze, cut a slice of -bread, and found a fork. The soup, which she had brought with her, -she poured into a tin pan and set on the stove to re-heat. Then she -looked about for serving utensils. There was no tray or napkin to be -seen, but she covered the bread board with the fringed doily that had -accompanied the soup.</p> - -<p>As she stepped lightly about her work her spirits rose higher than -they had since the news of the landlord's accident. She hugged to -herself the grim retribution she was receiving as she scorched her -face, as well as the bread, over the coals.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">-165-</a></span></p> - -<p>"I can forgive myself, if he forgives me," she thought.</p> - -<p>There was no butter or milk in the cupboard, and the tableware seemed -to be in all stages of decrepitude. The Haviland bowl looked most -incongruous in company with the cracked cups and plates on the tray, -but Miss Billy was forced to be content. She covered the stove, -and turned the drafts in a way she felt sure Mr. Schultzsky would -approve, and then, leaving the improvised tray on the shelf, with -fear and trembling approached the door of the bedroom. The old man -seemed to be asleep. Fearful of disturbing him, Miss Billy stood -hesitating in the doorway. Then she cautiously opened the window, -and pulled up the shade a few inches. The light showed a dirty room -in a great state of disorder. On a chair beside the bed was an array -of bottles, dishes, and the remains of a meal. Old clothes were -strewn about the floor, dust lay in great rolls everywhere, and the -cobwebs under the bed had only been disturbed by the motley pile<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">-166-</a></span> of -shoes and clothing which was thrust underneath. A broken harness was -suspended from a hook on one side of the room, and on the opposite -wall, crooked and high, hung the picture of a beautiful woman.</p> - -<p>Miss Billy went quietly to work to remedy things. She hung up the -clothes that littered the place, and arranged the medicine bottles. -Just as she was debating with herself as to the advisability of -rousing the invalid, the old man moved painfully. "Are you coming, -Johanna? Hurry up," he called from beneath the bed clothes. Miss -Billy made haste to obey. She brought the tray from the kitchen, and -quietly approached the bedside. Mr. Schultzsky lifted the blanket -from his face. He looked greyer and older than ever, his hair was -matted and towsled, and in the dim light he was a ghostly and -forbidding object. Even bold Miss Billy's hands shook as she helped -to raise him, and prop him a few inches higher with a pillow. As she -took up the tray again the old man glanced at her for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">-167-</a></span> the first -time. Instead of the stolid Bohemian face he had been expecting to -see, Miss Billy's sunny grey eyes, more tender and earnest than -usual, looked down into his stony grey ones.</p> - -<p>There was a moment's silence in the room. Then Mr. Schultzsky spoke:</p> - -<p>"Who are you?" he said.</p> - -<p class="illo border"> -<img src="images/p167.jpg" width="500" height="735" alt="illustration" title="illustration" /> -</p> - -<p class="caption">“Who are you?” he said.</p> - -<p>"Don't you know?" answered the girl. "I'm Miss Billy—Wilhelmina -Lee—the girl at No. 12. I came to see if there was anything I could -do for you."</p> - -<p>"Huh," growled the man. The syllable seemed to be forced through his -set teeth.</p> - -<p>Miss Billy, trembling inwardly, went on bravely with her -recital:—"Don't you remember? You fell on our sidewalk. It was that -day when you wouldn't do anything about the repairs, and I went out -to try to mend it myself. And oh, Mr. Schultzsky, I said I hoped -you'd fall through the rotten planks! I was only half in earnest, you -know, but you <i>did</i> come along and fall. And I feel as though it were -my fault. I'm so sorry—so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">-168-</a></span> very sorry." Her voice faltered. The old -man looked at her unwinkingly.</p> - -<p>"Go away," he said.</p> - -<p>"But you'll let me help you," entreated the girl, bringing the chair -nearer to the side of the bed.</p> - -<p>"Go away," repeated the old man.</p> - -<p>"I can't go away and leave you in this condition," pleaded Miss -Billy, bent on restitution.</p> - -<p>Mr. Schultzsky tried to raise himself from the pillow, but fell back -with a groan. He regarded her vindictively, and his face was more -sinister than ever as he repeated savagely—"Go away! Go away!"</p> - -<p>Miss Billy set down the tray on the chair and withdrew quickly. The -burning tears filled her eyes as she felt her way along to the gate. -"He was cruel," she said bitterly to herself. "I didn't deserve it." -A calmer mood took possession of her before she reached the door of -her home. "Well, he didn't strike me," she said stoutly. "And I know -I did my duty. But I shan't try to make friends<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">-169-</a></span> with him again, and -I shall never never let Ted hear of this."</p> - -<p>But her brother's quick wits had already anticipated and made ready -for her home coming. As she flung off her hat, and threw herself into -the big chair in the study, the sermon board thrust a black and white -message before her eyes. It had been empty when she left the house. -Now it bore a rude sketch of a nondescript animal, a cross between -a bear and a wolf, arrayed in a huge night cap. An unmistakable -Little Red Riding Hood stood at the side of the beast. And below was -scrawled in Theodore's hand:</p> - -<div class="center"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -Some bears have got two legs,<br /> -And some have got more;<br /> -Be lessons right severe,<br /> -If they've two legs or four!<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - - - - -<hr /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">-170-</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"><span class="gesperrt">CHAPTER XIII</span></a><br /> -<br /> -<span class="sm">HARD LINES</span></h2> - -<div class="center bp"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -“Though losses, and crosses,<br /> -Be lessons right severe—,<br /> -There’s wit there, ye’ll get there,<br /> -Ye’ll find nae other where.”<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<div><img style="margin-top: .3em" class="decocap" src="images/deco-b.jpg" width="56" height="56" alt="B" title="B" /></div> -<p class="decocap">BROWN'S sodas are the best in town, if they do come high,—and the -girls know it," Miss Billy had jeered a few weeks before. Theodore -repeated the words now with a wholly sober grimace, as he scrambled -into his clothes at half past six of an early July morning. Vacation -had brought him a permanent position in the drug store, at four -dollars a week, but the skeleton still walked. It was not a very -hideous skeleton, to be sure,—just a half dozen or so of remarkably -round and robust<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">-171-</a></span> young misses,—but it had a prodigious appetite for -the confection known as ice-cream soda, and it never happened to have -any money of its own.</p> - -<p>Theodore, red in the face from the growing heat and his hurried -exertions, frowningly continued his unpleasant reflections.</p> - -<p>"There are two or three of those girls that have treated me -contemptibly of late,—probably because I no longer live in a -fourteen-room house. That Myrtle Blanchard is a notable example. She -scarcely takes the trouble to see me on the street, but she manages -to get around to the soda fountain every day, either alone, or with -the crowd of girls."</p> - -<p>He was lacing his shoes now, and another side of the subject -presented itself.</p> - -<p>"These are the shoes I vowed to buy with my own earnings, or go -without. Father bought them. I've learned to crow before my tail -feathers have grown enough to tell whether I'm going to be a Brahma -rooster or a Bantam hen. Well, I'm through cackling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">-172-</a></span> now: anyway, -till I get rid of those girls, and save some money. Then I'll have -something to cackle over."</p> - -<p>He swung down to breakfast, taking time to eat only his "bale of -hay"—the shredded wheat biscuit the faithful Maggie put before -him,—and hurried off to work. At the gate he encountered John Thomas -Hennesy, going his way, with a broken bridle in his hand.</p> - -<p>"Mornin'," said John Thomas cheerfully.</p> - -<p>"Good-morning," returned Theodore. "Going my way? Then you'll have to -keep up with my stride. I'm late this morning."</p> - -<p>"Workin' at Brown's steady now, ain't yer?" inquired John Thomas, -with friendly curiosity. "Much in it?"</p> - -<p>"Four dollars a week as a starter," said Theodore, firmly pressing -the skeleton back into its closet. "It's easy work, and they are -beginning to give me a little collecting and bookkeeping of late."</p> - -<p>John Thomas gave his companion a covert stare that took in the -neat blue serge suit and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">-173-</a></span> immaculate tie, the jaunty straw hat and -well-polished shoes. He noted that Theodore's eyes were grey like -Miss Billy's, and his teeth were white. Then he shoved his own stubby -hands into his pockets, and lapsed into silence. Grudgingly to -himself he admitted that Theodore was a "swell." He had soft hands, -and clean finger nails, and white teeth. He polished his shoes every -day, wore stand-up collars through the hot weather, and liked easy -jobs.</p> - -<p>John Thomas's chin squared itself into the bulldog pattern of his -father's, and his hands shut tight in his pockets.</p> - -<p>There was Miss Billy now. She and Theodore were as alike in looks as -two peas. But Miss Billy was no swell. Her teeth and nails were awful -clean, too,—but then, she was a girl,—and <i>she</i> liked work. She'd -do anything,—even if she had clean hands, and finger nails, and——</p> - -<p>John Thomas was measuring the length of his stubby legs with -Theodore's long swinging<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">-174-</a></span> stride. "Driving team for your father, this -vacation, aren't you?" inquired Theodore, in turn. "Pretty hot in the -sun, isn't it?"</p> - -<p>"It's hot,—yes," admitted John Thomas, the bulldog chin slowly -melting under the friendly glance of the grey eyes,—"but its good -pay,—a dollar a day, and the day's work over at six o'clock."</p> - -<p>Theodore repressed a whistle. "Why, you'll save money, John Thomas, -if the job lasts all summer."</p> - -<p>"It'll last all summer, all right, and longer too. Father's got more -work than he can attend to. He's bought another team and he's going -to hire another man to drive it. I worked for father all last summer, -and I've got sixty dollars saved in the bank now. I'll make it a -hundred before school commences in September."</p> - -<p>It was Theodore, now, whose critical glance took in John Thomas,—a -sturdy square-set figure, with baggy trousers and rusty shoes, the -true Hennesy freckles and turned-up nose,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">-175-</a></span>—offset by keen blue eyes -and the resolute chin. "He's a man!" thought Theodore. "He's neither -afraid or ashamed of honest work,—and he saves his money, too. I -wonder what he'd do in my place now, if he had a crowd of girls to -treat every day with his hard earnings?"</p> - -<p>But it was difficult to imagine the figure at his side presiding -at a soda fountain, and handing out refreshment to a bevy of -young beauties, so Theodore gave it up with a sigh. John Thomas, -unpleasantly aware of the scrutiny, bore it unflinchingly, but his -chin squared itself again, and he thought, "He's a tenderfoot, that's -what he is. He never had dirty hands in his life. I guess he's -wonderin' who my tailor is."</p> - -<p>When Theodore reached the store he changed his coat for a linen one, -dusted the counters, lifted the ice into the soda fountain, and gave -all the glasses and spoons an extra polish. The recollection of -John Thomas lingered with him, together with the sixty dol<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">-176-</a></span>lars in -the bank which would be one hundred by September. "I'm in a false -position," he thought angrily. "I'm making those girls believe I have -all the money I want, and other people believe I'm an industrious and -deserving young man. I'd change jobs with John Thomas Hennesy in a -hurry if I could."</p> - -<p>The day was very warm, and by nine o'clock the soda water trade was -brisk. Myrtle Blanchard was one of the early callers. She was a miss -of fashion, like her older sisters, and aptly imitated their mincing -ways.</p> - -<p>"Oh, isn't it just too dreadfully warm?" she gasped, fanning herself -with her lace handkerchief and sinking onto one of the stools. "I -really couldn't have gone another step without resting, if I had been -paid for it."</p> - -<p>"It's hot," acquiesced Theodore, preparing a glass of orange -phosphate for another customer. "Mr. Brown," he called over to the -proprietor, who was sitting at the desk, "do you want me to collect -that bill I was told to call for this morning?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">-177-</a></span></p> - -<p>"Yes," answered Mr. Brown, "you'd better go right away. We've had to -wait long enough for that money. Frank, you take Theodore's place at -the fountain."</p> - -<p>Miss Myrtle's face assumed a look of hauteur. She was not accustomed -to being pushed aside, even for business. But she hastened to say, -"Oh, I am so warm! I believe I'll have a cherry phosphate. I came -away without my purse this morning, but please don't charge such a -small amount to papa."</p> - -<p>Theodore prepared the phosphate and placed it before her. His eyes -took on the steady, level expression that Miss Billy's habitually -wore, but his voice was cool and bland as he said aloud, "Frank, -please make a charge against Miss Myrtle Blanchard,—one phosphate, -ten cents."</p> - -<p>The other customers gazed in astonishment at this unheard of -publicity in entering a charge. Miss Myrtle turned from pink to -crimson, and slowly back to pink,—but she philosophically concluded -to drink her phos<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">-178-</a></span>phate and think the matter out afterward. Theodore, -meantime, had taken his hat, and getting the bill and some change -from Mr. Brown, left the store.</p> - -<p>"The mean thing!" inwardly raged Miss Myrtle. "He meant that for a -snub,—I know he did. And he never so much as glanced at me as he -went out. Just wait! I'll get even with him."</p> - -<p>Out in the hot sunshine Theodore's other conscience was accusing him. -"It's a mean thing to use a girl that way! But if it has to be done, -I'm glad Myrtle Blanchard got it first. Yet it's all my own fault! If -I hadn't treated them at the first, they wouldn't have come to expect -it. But I feel as mean as a cur that's stolen another cur's bone."</p> - -<p>A walk of half a mile brought Theodore to a handsome house in a -fashionable street. He ascended the steps, touched the bell, and -heard a voice on the inside distinctly say, "If that's that boy from -Brown's, Nora, tell him I'm not at home."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">-179-</a></span></p> - -<p>The door opened and a maid in a white cap glibly repeated the -message: "Mrs. Thorpe isn't at home this morning. Won't you call -again?"</p> - -<p>"She expects me this morning," said Theodore, firmly,—"so with your -permission, I'll wait." As he spoke, he entered and seated himself in -the reception hall.</p> - -<p>"She may not be home to luncheon," faltered the maid. "If you -could——"</p> - -<p>"My time is my own," interrupted Theodore. "Mrs. Thorpe expected me, -so I'll wait."</p> - -<p>There was a rustle of skirts above, and a whispered consultation. In -fifteen minutes' time Mrs. Thorpe descended the stairs, looking cool -and beautiful in a pale blue silken wrapper.</p> - -<p>"The maid was quite mistaken," she asserted sweetly. "I was taking a -little rest, and she thought I had gone out. Oh, yes,—you have that -bill. How troublesome for you to have had the long walk for so small -an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">-180-</a></span> amount! Fifteen dollars, is it? Please receipt the bill. And you -have change there! May I trouble you to change this five-dollar bill -for me, as well?"</p> - -<p>Theodore tucked the fifteen dollars, three crisp notes, into his -pocket, with satisfaction, and receipted the bill for the silken -lady. Then he counted out to her five dollars in change, and taking -his hat, bowed himself out. He was flushed with pride at having -outwitted the notorious Mrs. Thorpe. The other clerks at the store -had tried innumerable times to collect this bill. He hurried over -the hot pavements toward the store, the success of this undertaking -driving Myrtle Blanchard and the other girls, for the time, from his -mind.</p> - -<p>Mr. Brown was still at the desk when he reached the store. He handed -in the three bills with conscious triumph. "And the five dollars in -change, I gave you?" suggested Mr. Brown pleasantly.</p> - -<p>"Oh, I exchanged that for——" he stopped suddenly, with a startled -air. He had given<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">-181-</a></span> Mrs. Thorpe the five dollars in silver, but she -had given him no bill in return. He remembered now, distinctly. He -was perfectly sure.</p> - -<p>"You may have lost it," corrected Mr. Brown gravely. "You must be -careful not to attribute its loss to Mrs. Thorpe. She is one of our -wealthiest customers. However, you may go back and inquire."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Thorpe rustled down at Theodore's second summons. Certainly, she -had given him the bill! He had probably lost it on the street. Then -she rustled upstairs again, and Nora, the maid, showed him out.</p> - -<p>The brick buildings that radiated the heat, and the dusty streets -with their clanging cars, swam before his tired and angry eyes. "A -woman that would lie, might steal," he reflected fiercely. "Mrs. -Thorpe has that five-dollar bill, together with the change I gave -her, in her purse!"</p> - -<p>He took his way back, in helpless anger and misery, to the store, and -reported once more at the desk.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">-182-</a></span></p> - -<p>"No," said Mr. Brown. "I didn't think Mrs. Thorpe had it. You must be -extremely careful what you say. You have either carelessly lost it, -or——"</p> - -<p>"Or what?" demanded Theodore angrily.</p> - -<p>Mr. Brown flushed in return. "I have noticed since you have been in -my employ," he said coldly, "that you have extravagant habits, as -well as extravagant friends. It is the shortest road to dishonesty, -although I make no accusations. Of course you will make this loss -good. Is there any money coming to you?"</p> - -<p>"Very little. What was coming to me I drew Saturday night," said -Theodore, the colour all gone from his face. "Mr. Brown, you are -doing me an injustice. I <i>was</i> extremely careless. It is right that -I should return the money because of that carelessness. But I am -honest, and I have been taught to be truthful. I beg you to believe -me when I say that the money is, knowingly or unknowingly,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">-183-</a></span> with Mrs. -Thorpe. I distinctly remember that she did not give me the bill."</p> - -<p>Mr. Brown's voice was like ice: "I do not wish to have any more -discussion of the matter. The money will be charged to your father -until you repay its loss. You may go to dinner."</p> - -<p>Mr. Hennesy and John Thomas, seated on a little hillock of dirt, -were eating their dinner from a bountifully filled dinner pail, when -a noontide visitor strode in upon them. The horses looked mildly up -from their improvised feed boxes upon Theodore, who, reckless of -the polished shoes and blue serge suit, seated himself upon another -hillock in their midst.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Hennesy," he said, coming straight to the point, "have you hired -a man yet, to drive that new team you've bought?"</p> - -<p>"Well," said Mr. Hennesy warily, and confining his gaze to a generous -crescent his teeth had described in a quarter of an apple pie, -"there's a red-headed man that's been afther the job, an' there's -another that's as bald as an acorn——"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">-184-</a></span></p> - -<p>"If you'll give it to me," broke in Theodore, "I'll do my best -to please you, and I'll work cheaper than a man. I have handled -horses before. Try me for a week, Mr. Hennesy, and if I don't give -satisfaction you needn't pay me a cent, and there will be no hard -feeling."</p> - -<p>Mr. Hennesy's first shock of surprise expanded slowly into a grin. -John Thomas's eyes were like saucers.</p> - -<p>"Why-ee—" gurgled Mr. Hennesy, "ye'd burn the shkin all off av yer -nose, an' tan yer neck, an' blishter yer han's so yer own mother -wouldn't be afther knowin' ye. Ye couldn't niver——"</p> - -<p>"Come now, Mr. Hennesy," said Theodore, rising abruptly, "if I look -like a fool, I assure you I'm not one. Will you give me the chance?"</p> - -<p>Mr. Hennesy's grin vanished, and his chin squared.</p> - -<p>"Thot I will!" he said, extending his hand cordially. "Ye can go to -work in the morn<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">-185-</a></span>in'. But moind me,—ye'll do yer full dhuty, or -ye'll git fired!"</p> - -<p>Theodore was gone, as suddenly as he had come, and John Thomas still -sat, the picture of helpless surprise.</p> - -<p>"Well—I'll—be blowed!" he ejaculated, at last. "I wouldn't have -thought it of him. He looked too good to spoil his hands. Somethin' -must have gone wrong at the drug store."</p> - -<p>"Which same ye'll not be mintionin' to him, John Thomas," said Mr. -Hennesy, with the true instincts of a gentleman.</p> - -<p>"As if I would!" returned John Thomas scornfully.</p> - -<p>Dinner was over, and Miss Billy was out weeding the pansy bed when -her brother reached home. The long walk from the outskirts of the -town where Mr. Hennesy was working, and the noontide heat of the -day, had failed to bring the colour back to his pale face. He seemed -to have grown taller, and older, in a single morning. Miss Billy, -look<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">-186-</a></span>ing up from her flowers, instantly read the trouble in his face, -and sprang to her feet.</p> - -<p>"Wilhelmina," he said, putting his hand on her shoulder and looking -down into her face (it was the first time in his life he had called -her that), "I've got to borrow your Christmas gold piece. I never -thought I'd come down so low, but,—well, I have! I'm in trouble, and -I've got to have it to square myself."</p> - -<p>"Is that all?" cried Miss Billy, brightening. "It can't be a very -great trouble that that paltry gold piece can drive away. And I'm so -glad to let you have it, Ted."</p> - -<p>"No,—that's not all," went on Theodore, in a hard voice. "Mr. Brown -thinks I'm a sneak, if not a thief!—and I've quit my job. Don't tell -father and mother,—not yet, I mean."</p> - -<p>"Theodore!" There was anguish in Miss Billy's tones that brought the -tears for the first time to Theodore's eyes.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">-187-</a></span></p> - -<p>"But I've hired out to Mr. Hennesy to drive a team, and start to work -in the morning."</p> - -<p>"Brother, you <i>can't</i> do that!" Miss Billy, in spite of herself, was -crying now.</p> - -<p>"Do you remember," said Theodore, "we were reading the other day that -a man is as great—not as his father's money, or his grandfather's -name, but as the force within himself? Miss Billy, I have force -enough to drive Mr. Hennesy's team, and stick to it! Inasmuch as -that, I am a man."</p> - -<p>Miss Billy looked up, overawed. Laziness, heedlessness, vanity, had -dropped away as a mantle, and from the steady grey eyes looked the -serious spirit of a man.</p> - -<p>Like a rainbow of promise, Miss Billy smiled through her tears. -"Theodore Lee," she said, wiping the last drop off her nose, -"Theodore Lee, I'm proud of you!"</p> - - - - -<hr /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">-188-</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"><span class="gesperrt">CHAPTER XIV</span></a><br /> -<br /> -<span class="sm">TWO LETTERS</span></h2> - -<div class="center bp"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -“Princess, to you the western breeze<br /> -Bears many a ship and heavy laden;<br /> -What is the best we send in these?<br /> -A free and frank young Yankee maiden.”<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Cologne, Germany.</span></p> - -<p>"<i>Dear Miss Billikins</i>:</p> - -<p>"Prepare to clap your hands and chortle with joy! In six -weeks and two days more I shall be at home with you! -Perhaps I am a trifle conceited to think that you will be -as delighted over the prospect as I am.</p> - -<p>"Even my grief at leaving my beloved Germany is drowned in -joy at the thought of being home again; and when I see papa -and mamma's dear faces I shall be the happiest girl this -side of the Atlantic. After all, there is no place like -America, and no people like the Americans.</p> - -<p>"In proof of which, I can a tale unfold—a tale, Miss -Billy, which will make your blood<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">-189-</a></span> stand on end and your -hair run cold in your veins. I have had an adventure that -brought the tears of shame and contrition to my eyes, and -which will bring the tears of sympathy to yours. Get out -your largest and most absorbent handkerchief and prepare to -listen.</p> - -<p>"It rained yesterday,—not one of the mild English -drizzles, but a regular American downpour that lasted all -day. About four o'clock I put my music aside and went -downstairs, with the intention of taking a stroll, or more -literally, a swim. Frau Henich held up her hands in holy -horror at the sight of my costume, which was a combination -of bathing suit and bicycle skirt.</p> - -<p>"Will the bold Fräulein venture out in such wetness?</p> - -<p>"The bold Fräulein would.</p> - -<p>"Did she not fear the dampness?</p> - -<p>"The Fräulein adored dampness.</p> - -<p>"Was there no message that could be sent?</p> - -<p>"The Fräulein had no message. She was going out for her -pleasure.</p> - -<p>"Frau Henich looked at me in pity and amazement. Generally -she considers me erratic, but on occasions of this sort -she knows I am unbalanced. As I closed the door I could -feel that she was still wondering in which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">-190-</a></span> branch of my -family insanity was rampant. Now there is a certain tiny -store in Cologne which I intend to buy out some day. It -is a most fascinating place, with the windows full of gay -knit garters, and hideous pictures of the saints, and dried -herrings, and with funny little reward-of-merit-cards and -work-boxes tucked away in dark corners.</p> - -<p>"Of course none of these things are exactly in my line, but -the mistress of the house sells a delicious little German -cake that is my especial delight. Whenever my music lessons -go badly or I fail to get a letter from home, I comfort -myself with a bag of these little '<span lang="de">pfeffernes</span>.'</p> - -<p>"On this rainy day the shop was even more inviting than -usual. It was brightly lighted with three candles, a big -pussy cat was purring on the mat, and there was an odour -of hot gingerbread in the air. My long walk had made me -hungry, and I recklessly ordered two dozen cakes, a square -of the frosted gingerbread, and a little pail of sauerkraut -which tasted and smelled very German indeed. It was dark -outside, so I didn't stay to practise my German on the -rosy-faced woman behind the counter, but took my bundles -hurriedly. I paddled out, leaving a long stream of green -water in my wake—(the colour in my green<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">-191-</a></span> umbrella has -'run' as you predicted)—and faced the storm.</p> - -<p>"The long narrow street was deserted, and I sprinted along -making good time, though my feet were soaking wet and I -could feel the water gurgle in my shoes at every step. As -I started across a muddy street within two blocks of Frau -Henich's, a sudden gust of wind blew my umbrella inside -out. I righted it by facing about and holding it against -the wind. Then clutching my bundles a little tighter, and -still treading determinedly backwards, I bumped forcibly -into a man who was coming towards me. The result was what -might have been expected. We sat down in the street. The -gingerbread went into his lap, the cakes fell about me -like stars from a rocket, and from what I could see in the -dusk the kraut seemed to be equally divided between us. We -both sat perfectly still for a moment. Then six feet of -masculinity arose from the mud, with the sound of a suction -pump, and approached me, with the air of a count. 'Are you -hurt, Fräulein?' he inquired, in irreproachable German that -made me green with envy. I felt of myself in the cleanest -places and decided that I was not. He helped me up with -difficulty, for the mud had a strong attraction for me, -too, and I feebly began to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">-192-</a></span> collect my thoughts, and my -cakes, and to look about for my umbrella.</p> - -<p>"By this time my companion in misery had a beautiful -un-German-like apology ready for me, and proposed that we -move on, and repair damages by the street lamp. I replied, -in very bad German, that my boarding-place was just around -the corner, and that I would prefer to remove the signs -of our collision at home. He graciously acceded to my -humble request, and crossed the street with me, holding the -remains of my umbrella over my head. When we reached the -lamp I could fully appreciate the humour of the situation. -The aristocratic chest of the Count was plastered with -white frosting, his hat was caved in, and his noble face -was covered with spatters of mud. My skirt dripped mud -and water at each step, my hands were gloved with honest -German soil, and my hair fell over my face in degraded -little stringlets. We both fairly reeked with kraut. But -the Count, courteously oblivious to our picturesque and -barbaric appearance, walked by my side, with that skeleton -of an umbrella gallantly protecting the remains of my Knox -hat, and discoursing cheerfully upon the vagaries of the -German climate. Naturally my answers were not so teeming -with wisdom as usual, for I was fairly overcome with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">-193-</a></span> -suppressed emotion and mud. Beside, I am awfully stupid -about languages, and all the German I have learned since -I have been here would rattle if it were shaken about in -a peanut shell. If he had asked me about the lamb of the -daughter of the gardener, or the pink frock of my sister's -child, I could have conversed fluently; but as it was I -maintained a dignified silence and let him think that I was -a modest little German <span lang="de">Mädchen</span>.</p> - -<p>"His good manners lasted the whole two blocks, and he -handed me in at Frau Henich's door with the air of King -Cophetua, though I did think I caught a twinkle of fun in -his eyes as he said '<span lang="de">Gute Nacht, Fräulein. Es ist immer der -Amerikaner der die deutschen Länder bekommt</span>.'</p> - -<p>"Fräulein Henich has much to say of the gracious Herr, who -came to my rescue so nobly. It seems after all that he is -no count, just an American student, as she expresses it -touring Germany,—'but so amiable in manner, so hard in the -working, and so good to the children.' He boards across the -street with her good friend Frau Heller, and I have often -seen a young man, answering to his description, frolicking -with the six flaxen-headed Heller cherubs. But, to me he -will always be known as the Count. My introduction to him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">-194-</a></span> -is also my farewell, for he leaves to-morrow—whither I -know not—and alas, I shall see him no more! Still, he has -served his purpose in furnishing me with many a recent -chuckle, and material for what otherwise would have been a -most stupid letter to you. Musical students never have any -brains left for letters, and nothing to write about. Maybe -I won't have enough things to <i>tell</i> you about, my dear, in -six weeks and two days more!</p> - -<p class="center">"Lots of love from</p> - -<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Peggy</span>."</p> -</div> - -<p>Miss Billy laid down the closely written sheets of foreign paper, and -drew a long sigh of pleasure. Six weeks more!</p> - -<p>Perhaps no one knew just what the end of the six weeks meant to -Miss Billy. Even the cheeriest and happiest of us all have our dark -days, and the fact that our friends do not suspect them, makes the -days none the less hard to bear. Miss Billy's interest in her new -surroundings, and her bravery in her changed circumstances had not -prevented many a heart-ache and longing for the old life. Girls are -merciless aristocrats, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">-195-</a></span> many of Miss Billy's old friends had -wounded her with careless speeches, or rude actions, since the old -life had ended. The covert sneers, the uplifted eyebrows, the small -snubs that so often crushed Beatrice in these days of stern economy, -had touched Miss Billy's sensitive soul; and though she was brave -enough to rise above them, they were not easy to bear.</p> - -<p>But after Margaret came,—dear loyal Peggy, so leal and true—whom -changed circumstances only made nearer and dearer,—Miss Billy felt -that she could face the world and "the girls" with courage, as well -as independence, and she yearned for her friend with all the strength -of her young soul.</p> - -<p>And on the heels of this joyful letter came another delightful -surprise. It was an overture of peace, and the carrier dove was Aaron -Levi. The olive branch he bore was a message to the effect that "ol' -man Schultzsky" wanted to see Miss Billy "to wunst." "What can he -want of me?" thought the girl, hurrying out of the door in a state of -high excite<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">-196-</a></span>ment. "It must be that he wants something done; if that's -the case, perhaps he's not so awfully mad at me, after all."</p> - -<p>She crossed the street, and went quickly up to Mr. Schultzsky's door. -The little Bohemian maid, who was rocking on the front porch, rose -up uncertainly and fled around the house at her approach. Miss Billy -entered without the ceremony of rapping, and made her way to the room -in which she had found Mr. Schultzsky before.</p> - -<p>In appearance it was the same dark mildewed room of two weeks before, -with the harness on the wall, and the picture of the beautiful woman -hanging crookedly near the ceiling. In the half gloom she saw the -old man still stretched on the hard bed with the weight of flatirons -attached to his foot. His face in its gauntness and pallor showed the -suffering he had endured; but the sunken eyes were bright, and he -displayed his eagerness in the gesture with which he motioned her to -the chair by his side.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">-197-</a></span></p> - -<p>"I vant you to write a letter," he began in a weak voice. "It comes -to me in the night if I haf no one to do for me I vill not soon get -vell. Johanna is a child. She can speak not the English; she can -order not the food. She can do nothing but rock herself in the chair -and cry. Open the drawer in the table, and take the paper and ink. It -is to my niece's oldest child—the letter."</p> - -<p>Not without trembling, because of her proximity to the strange old -man, Miss Billy obeyed.</p> - -<p>"I am ready, Mr. Schultzsky," she announced.</p> - -<p>The old man fell to pondering.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p>"To Frances Lindsay, my niece's child," he began at last. -"I am in much trouble that my leg is broke and I cannot -mofe. It is such warm weather, and such pain, I cannot get -well unless you come by me.</p> - -<p>"I will pay it when you come, which you should do right -away.</p> - -<p class="center">"Your affectionate uncle,</p> - -<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Abraham Schultzsky</span>."</p> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">-198-</a></span></p> - -<p>"Is that all?" asked Miss Billy, as the dictation ceased.</p> - -<p>"Yes," said the old man wearily. "The street number is on a piece of -paper in the drawer. That's right." He closed his eyes, but turned -slightly as Miss Billy rose to go, and held out his hand. "You are a -smart girl," he said. "I thank you for what you haf done for me."</p> - -<p>Miss Billy gave his hand a little squeeze in her excitement. "I've -been so sorry, Mr. Schultzsky," she said softly. "Can you ever, ever -forgive me?"</p> - -<p>"It is nodding," responded Mr. Schultzsky shortly. "Goot-day."</p> - -<p>Miss Billy, thus dismissed, sped home as one whose feet were shod -with wings.</p> - -<div class="center"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -"All is forgiven,<br /> -Blest be my soul,"<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p>she hummed to herself as she made her way to the mail box. "I'm as -happy as a lark. Margaret's coming home, and Mr. Schultzsky has<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">-199-</a></span> -forgiven me. It's too much good luck for one day." She smiled happily -as she dropped into the box the letter addressed to</p> - -<div class="center"> -<div class="poem"> -<p> -"Miss Frances Lindsay,<br /> -<span class="i1">"886 East Forty-fifth Street,</span><br /> -<span class="i8">"New York."</span><br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - - - - -<hr /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">-200-</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"><span class="gesperrt">CHAPTER XV</span></a><br /> -<br /> -<span class="sm">“FRANCES”</span></h2> - -<div class="center bp"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -“There were three ladies in a hall,—<br /> -<span class="i1">With a heigh-ho and a lily gay:</span><br /> -There came a lord among them all,—<br /> -<span class="i1">As the primrose spreads so sweetly.”</span><br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<div><img style="margin-top: .3em; padding-right: 3px;" class="decocap" src="images/deco-i.jpg" width="55" height="55" alt="I" title="I" /></div> -<p class="decocap">IT was hot, very hot, in Cherry Street. Miss Billy's garden bloomed -as Paradise, but up and down the alley household garbage bubbled and -boiled in the sun. The sweet peas on the fence were a marvellous -cloud of pink, violet, crimson, purple and white. They rioted over -the Hennesy pickets, and spread their fairy wings as if to descend -on the other side;—but across the street Mr. Schultzsky's weeds -flaunted in all the rank arrogance of a second crop.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">-201-</a></span></p> - -<p>Miss Billy was disheartened, but not defeated. "Of course I can't -accomplish it all by myself," she thought, "and John Thomas is too -tired at night to help and Theodore is working, too. But every child -in the street that can handle a hoe shall be enlisted in the cause if -I can accomplish it."</p> - -<p>She went over to Mrs. Canary's to talk the matter over, and found -Holly Belle in a kitchen that easily registered 110 degrees. Mrs. -Canary was in bed with one of her "attacks," the twins, unwashed and -sticky, were playing with a basket of potatoes on the floor: Ginevra, -the little sister, was grumblingly washing the breakfast dishes, -while Holly Belle, with signs of recent tears around her eyelashes, -was binding up a badly burned arm.</p> - -<p>"You see, there's bread-baking to-day," she said, as Miss Billy's -deft fingers bound up the burn, "and maw's sick, and paw goes onto -his beat at noon, and must have his dinner, and the twins are -restless with the heat, and won't stay satisfied five minutes at -a time with anything.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">-202-</a></span> The boys are off somewhere, and no good to -anybody, and my own head aches so I can't hardly see. It aches all -the time, now, anyway."</p> - -<p>"I should think it would," said Miss Billy sympathetically. "Can't -you let that fire go out? It's simply unbearable in here."</p> - -<p>"No," said Holly Belle, "the bread's in the oven, an' there's pork -an' cabbage cooking. I've got to get the potatoes peeled right away, -or dinner'll be late."</p> - -<p>Miss Billy reached for a kitchen apron that hung on a nail. "Well, -I'll bathe the babies," she said: "I think that will make them feel -better. Then I'll sweep up for you, and help with the dinner."</p> - -<p>"You're awful good," said Holly Belle simply. Her eyes looked heavy, -and her shoulders had a pathetic droop. "Jinny, if yer through with -the dishpan, give it to Miss Billy to wash the twins in, and then go -down to the store and fetch a pound of butter."</p> - -<p>Miss Billy bathed the babies in a tiny pantry,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">-203-</a></span> away from the -scorching blast of the cook stove, and clad them in clean, dark -calico slips. Ginevra came with the butter, and was despatched with -the twins in their carriage to the shady north side of the Lee house. -Order slowly evolved from chaos. The kitchen was swept, the pantry -put to rights, and Miss Billy, crimson in the face, and with her -collar quite wilted, was preparing to set the table.</p> - -<p>"Don't you think—Holly Belle," she suggested, "that it might be -better to move the table into the other room? It's much cooler in -there."</p> - -<p>"We never have," answered Holly Belle dubiously. "We've always eat in -the kitchen."</p> - -<p>"Well, we'll try it this time, anyway,—and if your mother objects -we'll not do it again. It's so hot in here, Holly Belle, it's -positively dangerous! And as you can't take the stove out, it seems -as though you would have to take yourselves out, that's all."</p> - -<p>"I've been thinking," she went on, as she went back and forth from -the table to the pan<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">-204-</a></span>try, "that instead of having the children in -the neighbourhood spend every Saturday morning with me, as they have -been doing, I shall have them come every morning for two hours. That -would help you, wouldn't it, Holly Belle? And I can just as well do -it through the vacation. You could send the babies before nine, and -I'd bathe them and be ready for the rest at nine o'clock.</p> - -<p>"This child-garden, Holly Belle, is going to resolve itself into an -Improvement Club. Every member who is old enough must pledge himself -to one half-hour's service a day in keeping clean his own yard and -alley, and the street in front of his house. The weeds must be kept -down, the cesspools disinfected, and the garbage disposed of. Then -another half hour might be pledged to household duties,—such as -washing and wiping dishes, bringing in wood, carrying water, and -making beds. They'll all subscribe to the conditions, I know, for the -sake of sharing in the pleasures of the child-garden."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">-205-</a></span></p> - -<p>"Launkelot and Fridoline couldn't never wash and wipe dishes," said -Holly Belle hopelessly. "They'd break them all up."</p> - -<p>"Indeed they can, if they try," returned Miss Billy stoutly. "My -brother Theodore can wash and wipe dishes as deftly as a girl,—and -he could do it at their age, too."</p> - -<p>"'Twould be an awful help," mused Holly Belle, "and our yard an' -alley is a sight to behold, but I ain't got no time to clean it."</p> - -<p>"Of course you haven't. But you are doing noble work in this kitchen -every day,—and taking care of those babies beside. It's noble work, -Holly Belle."</p> - -<p>Holly Belle's lips quivered, and her tears fell. "I ain't like -other girls," she sobbed. "I used to go to bed of nights an' dream -I had a piano an' could play on it. An' when I'd wake up I'd be so -disappointed it seemed to me I couldn't stand it. An' I used to go on -hopin' and hopin' that I'd get one, an' learn, but I know it's too -late now. I'm growin' on fourteen, already."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">-206-</a></span></p> - -<p>Miss Billy, taking in all the pathos of the starved little life, -found no words to reply. "But the thing that hurts worst," went on -Holly Belle, wiping her tears on her apron, "is that I can't go to -school. I had to stop when Mikey was a baby, and then just as I got -started again the twins came, and I guess I'll never go back. The -teacher came to see maw, an' told her how quick I learned,—but it -didn't do no good, an' I'll have to stay right here in this kitchen -all the rest of my life."</p> - -<p>Miss Billy crossed over to the drooping little figure, and put her -arm about her. "Keep hoping, Holly Belle," she counselled: "Keep -hoping, and keep on trying. I'm sure it will all come out right. -I have a solemn conviction that when one wishes hard enough for a -thing, it comes to pass. And so I am sure the school days will come -again, and the piano and the lessons, too."</p> - -<p>Holly Belle dried her tears. "You've made me feel almost sure of it, -too," she said, with a smile. "I'm thankful for the help you've<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">-207-</a></span> been -to me with the work, Miss Billy,—and I'll send the children over in -the morning."</p> - -<hr class="med" /> - -<p>It was that evening that Theodore, freshly arrayed in the glory -of blue serge and starched linen, drew Miss Billy into a secluded -corner. His neck, even as Mr. Hennesy had predicted, was burned to a -deep red, and the blisters on his hands were hardening into calloused -spots,—but there was no self pity in his manner as he handed his -sister a five dollar gold piece.</p> - -<p>"My first week's pay," he announced, proudly: "and thank you very -much for the accommodation."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I'd rather not take it now, Ted," demurred Miss Billy. "Wait -until you've earned more."</p> - -<p>"No indeed," said Theodore proudly. "Next week I shall pay father for -my shoes, and after that, every cent of my money goes into the bank. -Take it now, or never, Miss Billy."</p> - -<p>"Well, I'll take it if I must, but I don't want<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">-208-</a></span> to," grumbled his -sister. "Say Ted, Beatrice and I are going over to call on Mr. -Schultzsky's niece, Frances Lindsay, this evening. Mother saw her -trunk arrive to-day, and thought we ought to. Won't you go with us?"</p> - -<p>"No, I thank you," said Theodore. "To tell the truth, I've soured on -the society of ladies. But if she's handsome, and wealthy, and under -thirty, I may relent and call upon her some other evening."</p> - -<p>"For my part, I think the idea of our going over there is -ridiculous," scolded Beatrice. "I wouldn't, if mother didn't insist -upon it. It's more than likely she can speak only Bohemian, as that -other little niece does, and will run and hide upon our arrival."</p> - -<p>"Well, we'll go, anyway," said Miss Billy. "Mother is right. The girl -will feel very strange and lonely in that old house, and if she can't -speak English we can at least shake hands and then sit and smile at -her."</p> - -<p>They took their way across the street, Beatrice very dainty in her -white dress with a rose<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">-209-</a></span> low in her hair,—Miss Billy in a black -dress skirt and white shirt-waist, with a severely masculine collar -and tie. The front door stood ajar, and after tapping several times -Miss Billy ushered herself in. "It's the only way," she declared, in -reply to Beatrice's horrified exclamation. "Mr. Schultzsky <i>can't</i> -let us in, that little Bohemian girl <i>won't</i> let us in, and under the -circumstances, I suppose the new niece can't make up her mind what to -do."</p> - -<p>There was the sound of a well-modulated masculine voice reading in -Mr. Schultzsky's room. Miss Billy tapped gently, and the door was -opened by a young man. In one swift glance she knew he was tall, with -dark eyes and a ruddy skin, and wore glasses.</p> - -<p>"I beg your pardon," she faltered. "We have called to inquire for Mr. -Schultzsky, and to call upon his niece, Miss Frances Lindsay."</p> - -<p>In the next instant, too, she was sure the young man was well bred. -He gave Beatrice a chair, and turned on the student lamp without<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">-210-</a></span> -manifesting any embarrassment, while Miss Billy crossed to the old -man's bedside, and extended her hand.</p> - -<p>"I hope you are better, Mr. Schultzsky," she said. "Sister Beatrice -and I have come to call upon——" For some undefined reason the words -died away, and she stood with glowing cheeks and paralysed tongue.</p> - -<p>"Sit down," said Mr. Schultzsky, pointing to a chair at the bedside. -The young man was regarding Miss Billy with open humour shining in -his dark eyes.</p> - -<p>"I feel already acquainted with you, Miss Lee," he said, "as a good -friend of my uncle's, and as a young lady who insists upon spelling -my name 'ces.' <i>I</i> am Francis Lindsay!"</p> - -<p>He was looking at Beatrice now, whose face was the picture of shocked -propriety and haughtiness. Miss Billy's wits returned.</p> - -<p>"It would be very funny," she thought, "if Bea didn't take it so -tragically. But he is not at all to blame. He has tact, and is -kind. <i>I</i> am the stupid one." Then she introduced<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">-211-</a></span> Beatrice with a -mischievous ring in her voice. "My sister Beatrice,—<i>Mr.</i> Francis -Lindsay."</p> - -<p>Mr. Schultzsky was feebly wagging his head and chuckling. "She iss a -smart girl," he said,—"but she wass fooled dot time."</p> - -<p>With a person less polished, the situation might have been deeply -embarrassing,—but Mr. Schultzsky's great-nephew conversed -entertainingly, with his arm resting easily on the table. He spoke -of his native city of New York, of existing social relations, of -his uncle's illness. He addressed his remarks to Miss Billy, but he -glanced often at Beatrice, who sat cold and silent across the room.</p> - -<p>"I trust you will give me permission to return the call," he said -pleasantly, as at the end of ten minutes they rose to go. "I assure -you I know what it is to be lonely, though I am not a girl."</p> - -<p>"Do come," said Miss Billy cordially,—but Beatrice remained silent.</p> - -<p>"Now with your usual propensity for doing stupid things, you have -drawn us into a fine<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">-212-</a></span> entanglement," scolded Beatrice, as they -reached the sidewalk. "I never heard of anything so arrogant in my -life as his asking if he might return the call. And it was not your -place to give him permission, either. You quite forget you are my -younger sister."</p> - -<p>"I think him extremely courteous and high-bred," returned Miss Billy -with spirit, "and his asking to call upon us was a delicate and kind -thing to do, under the circumstances. But don't let us quarrel about -him, Bea. How old do you suppose he is? I think he can't be over -twenty-one,—but his grave manners make him appear older."</p> - -<p>"I have no suppositions whatever upon such a subject," said Beatrice -loftily.</p> - -<p>"But at least, you cannot deny he is a gentleman?"</p> - -<p>Beatrice raised her pretty eyebrows. "Into that I shall not inquire. -It is enough for me that he is a relative of Mr. Schultzsky's."</p> - - - - -<hr /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">-213-</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"><span class="gesperrt">CHAPTER XVI</span></a><br /> -<br /> -<span class="sm">THE CHILD GARDEN</span></h2> - -<div class="center bp"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -“As I went up Pippin Hill<br /> -Pippin Hill was dirty.”<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<div><img style="margin-top: .3em" class="decocap" src="images/deco-n.jpg" width="56" height="56" alt="N" title="N" /></div> -<p class="decocap">NO, I will not," said Beatrice decidedly.</p> - -<p>"But the children will be so disappointed. They will have their -reports all ready, and there will be almost no one here to hear them. -Neither mother nor father can be present. And the little ones are so -fond of you."</p> - -<p>Even this mixture of pathos and diplomacy failed to touch Bea's -flinty heart. "I don't wish to be here," she replied.</p> - -<p>"But you said last night you would."</p> - -<p>"That was before I knew you were going to invite every Tom, Dick and -Harry in the neighbourhood."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">-214-</a></span></p> - -<p>Miss Billy was roused immediately. "I suppose by that you mean Mr. -Francis Lindsay," she said with spirit; "I invited him here on -purpose. I want to be especially nice to him just because you were so -mean and sniffy to him the night of our call. That was my blunder, -and you needn't empty the vials of your wrath on him. He was as -gentlemanly and pleasant as he could be, and did his very best to -make us forget that we were two girls calling upon a boy. Besides, he -is interested in this kind of work—he told me so himself. And the -children all adore him,—and mother said I might."</p> - -<p>The speaker paused, breathless.</p> - -<p>"It is none of my affair whom you choose to invite to the house," -said Beatrice coldly. "But I prefer not to see him."</p> - -<p>"All right, don't, then," retorted Miss Billy wrathfully. "I'll ask -Marie Jean, instead. She'll be glad to come, I guess. But I don't -understand you at all, Bea. It isn't like you to be so petty and -small."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">-215-</a></span></p> - -<p>Beatrice walked away without another word, and Miss Billy marched -defiantly to the Hennesy fence, and vaulted lightly over. It was -wicked of Miss Billy, for she knew that this tomboyish expression of -independence would be most irritating to Beatrice.</p> - -<p>Marie Jean Hennesy, sitting with her embroidery on the back porch, -looked amazed at the breathless apparition which appeared over the -fence.</p> - -<p>"You're the very one I wanted to see," said Miss Billy. "The Street -Improvement Club is going to meet in our yard this morning, and the -children are going to read reports of what they have accomplished. -I'm sure you'd be interested, and I do wish you'd come and hear them."</p> - -<p>Marie Jean was not so enthusiastic. "I don't know," she said -doubtfully. "I was intending to finish this work to-day."</p> - -<p>"I do wish you'd come," urged Miss Billy. "There will be no one there -besides the children, except Mr. Lindsay,—the young man<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">-216-</a></span> staying at -Mr. Schultzsky's. I think you'd enjoy it."</p> - -<p>Marie Jean folded her linen slowly. "Maybe I'll come," she decided, -"if I can get my dress changed in time."</p> - -<p>"Don't stop to fix up," cautioned Miss Billy. "Come as soon as you -can."</p> - -<p>"You'd betther be makin' haste, Mary Jane," called Mrs. Hennesy from -the foot of the stairs ten minutes later. "I seen the children go -trapesing into Miss Billy's a minute ago, an' I guess maybe they're -waitin' on you."</p> - -<p>Marie Jean deigned no reply. She tipped her mirror at a more -satisfactory angle, as she applied Mde. Juneau's Bloom of Youth to -her freckled nose, and gave a sigh of satisfaction at the result. -Then she surveyed the vision before her with a pleased smile. A -dream in blue smiled back at her from the glass,—a dream in a -striking costume of brilliant blue foulard, with pointed neck and -elbow sleeves. A faded blue hat was perched sideways upon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">-217-</a></span> the heavy -reddish hair, and a pair of long silk mitts in another shade of blue -completed the attire.</p> - -<p>Marie Jean pursed up her lips to produce an elongated dimple in one -cheek. "If I could only remember to do that every once in a while!" -she said to herself. From the hush that pervaded the hall below Marie -Jean suspected that her mother, with her nose pressed tightly against -the window pane, was assuring herself as to the condition of affairs -in the next yard. Her suspicions were confirmed by the call that -followed:</p> - -<p>"Young Mr. Lindsay has came now, Mary Jane. He's all in white, close, -hat, shoes an' all. Sure ol' man Schultzsky'll be worryin' about his -laundry bills. They're all a sittin' round on the grass with him an' -Miss Billy. You'd best make haste."</p> - -<p>This had the desired effect. There was a hurried moving about in -the room upstairs, and two minutes later the daughter of the family -appeared, fluffing her frizzes to their widest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">-218-</a></span> extent, and giving a -final hitch to her openwork stockings.</p> - -<p>"Whose sun shade is that yer afther carryin'?" asked the mother.</p> - -<p>"It's one I borrowed from Lily Corcoran to match my suit," answered -Marie Jean cautiously. "Don't be lettin' the neighbours know about -it, either."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Hennesy withered beneath the reproof. "Of course I'll not spake -of it," she said. "It was a slipsy of the tongue, Mary Jane."</p> - -<p>Her daughter accepted the apology in the spirit in which it was -given, for her time was too limited for haughtiness. "All right," she -said condescendingly, as she hurried down the walk.</p> - -<p>There was a commotion in the Lee yard as the vision in blue appeared -around the corner of the house. Marie Jean in her usual clothes was -not to be lightly regarded, but in this new and startling costume the -effect was electrifying to the spectators. Little Aaron Levi, who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">-219-</a></span> -was holding the floor, became suddenly affected with stage fright, -and the small Canarys stared open mouthed. Fridoline alone arose to -the emergency and inquired in a loud and interested tone, "Hallo, -Mary Jane. Where'd you get that hat?"</p> - -<p>Miss Billy hurried forward to greet her guest.</p> - -<p>"We were afraid you were not coming," she said cordially, "so we went -on with our reports. Won't you sit down." She cast a rueful look at -the gay costume. "I'm afraid you won't dare to sit on the grass with -the rest of us. Let's begin over again, Aaron."</p> - -<p>Marie Jean took the garden chair that Francis offered and smiled -sweetly at him, not forgetting to exhibit the elongated dimple; -Miss Billy settled back on the grass; and Aaron Levi took up his -half-finished sentence.</p> - -<p>It was the first meeting of the Civic Improvement Department of -the Child Garden. The Street Improvement Club, as they had chosen -to call themselves, had been successfully organised and valiantly -living up to their motto<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">-220-</a></span> of "Be clean and keep clean." The life of a -missionary is never easy, and Cherry Street had made it particularly -hard for the little band of workers who fought so bravely against the -dirt, disorder and disease in their surroundings. It would have been -hopeless to try to interest the older people, but the children were -all enthusiastic little citizens, and their interest in the work had -won over many of the fathers and mothers who had opposed the idea of -cleanliness as "putting on airs." Already the street had begun to -show improvement, and the reports of the children plainly told under -what difficulties some of the sturdy members had worked.</p> - -<p>Aaron Levi, with a long sheet of soiled foolscap, which effectually -concealed a large portion of his anatomy, read the first report in -loud and distinct tones:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p>"As I belong to the Street Cleaning Club I would like to -tell a thing or more what happened last week. I told Joe -to pick up some paper which was lying in the street. If -he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">-221-</a></span> wouldn't pick it up I would. I was just going to see -what he says, so finally, he wasn't going to pick it up, -and he said he wasn't going to pick dirty papers up from -the streets, and that wasn't even all, he also littered the -streets. He also stated that there was not a law passed -forbidding people to throw papers on the street.</p> - -<p>"The place where I live, which is not large, there is very -seldom a piece of paper or anything else. Hoping that other -places may be in the same condition. This can be easily -done if people and children help together.</p> - -<p class="center">"Yours truly,</p> - -<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Aaron Levi</span>."</p> -</div> - -<p>"Very good," said Miss Billy heartily, as Aaron, flushed with emotion -and heat, took his place on the grass. "Aaron, I'm proud of you. If -we all do work of that kind there won't be need for our club always. -Ginevra, have you something to read to us?"</p> - -<p>Ginevra twisted her apron about in her small brown hands.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">-222-</a></span></p> - -<p>"I didn't write mine," she murmured faintly. "It's only about an -orange peel, anyway."</p> - -<p>"Can't you tell us, then?" encouraged Miss Billy.</p> - -<p>"There was a man goin' up Cherry Street last night, an' he was eatin' -a orange, an' droppin' the peelin' right on the sidewalk. An' I said -to him 'Mister, please don't drop those on the walk.' And he didn't -pay no attention to me, an' so I walked along behind him an' just -picked them up myself."</p> - -<p>Ginevra's patient little story was most touching, and Miss Billy and -Francis exchanged quick glances of sympathy. Marie Jean settled the -folds of her gown, and smiled. "How perfectly lovely," she remarked -to no one in particular.</p> - -<p>"Isn't it interesting?" asked Miss Billy proudly. "Frank Murphy, you -come next. What have you done?"</p> - -<p>Frank's report was brief and to the point. "There was a dead rat out -in the street. It<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">-223-</a></span> was big and smelt awful. I poked it with a stick, -but it was so smelly I couldn't take it in my hands. So I brought the -cat out and she et it up."</p> - -<p>The fastidious sense of Marie Jean was much offended by the story, -but she bravely accepted the custom of the Romans, and only indicated -her disgust by a slight elevation of the nose, as Frank's successor -was announced, and Launcelot, in a high state of excitement and a -huge red necktie, took the floor.</p> - -<p>"Our slop barrel was running over. And ma wanted to give some of it -to Hennesy's chickens, and I wouldn't let her because it ud make -Hennesy's yard look worse than ever. And she said it was the slop -collector's fault and that Cherry Street was always neglekted. And I -said I'll see to it. And I went to see the slop gentleman at the city -hall and told him about the slop running over, and the germs that -were just flying round loose inside, and I spoke fierce and he said -he'd 'tend to it. And I said he'd better and he said he would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">-224-</a></span> and he -did. An' we've smelled nice ever since.</p> - -<p>"And Johanna who lives with old man Schultzsky threw tin cans into -the street, and we kids waited till night an' then stuck them all -along on the pickets to his fence, an' she don't do it any more. An' -I asked ma not to wash me and Mike in the same water, and she said -all right if I'd carry in fresh water and I did.</p> - -<p>"An' there was a grocery boy dropped a egg on our walk, and I made -him clean it up.</p> - -<p>"An' I got two kids to sign our pledge, and they'll come to every -meetin' where there's going to be grub."</p> - -<p>Launcelot's recital was followed by a chorus of admiration. Francis' -face was hidden, but his shaking shoulders showed his emotion, and -Miss Billy's eyes danced as she patted the small workman upon the -shoulder, exclaiming, "Bravo, Launcelot! You're our Master Constable."</p> - -<p>"Now me," begged little Mike.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">-225-</a></span></p> - -<p>"Are even the babes in arms mustered into service?" asked Francis.</p> - -<p>"To be sure they are," responded the hostess. "Mike is one of our -best workers. Tell us about it, dear."</p> - -<p>"A boy camed and shaked our new 'ittle twee. An' I said 'No, no, -boy,' and he wunned away. And Fwiddie helped me make a fence wound -it," lisped the little lad.</p> - -<p>Even Marie Jean was delighted with the childish recital, and she -joined enthusiastically in the applause which followed. Little Mike -buried his face in his sister's lap, and only glanced out shyly when -Friddie began his report.</p> - -<p>"I'm using my ecspress wagon to clean up the streets with," he began. -"I go out early every morning, and Aaron Levi helps me. We pick up -all the trash in the street an' pile it in my wagon, and sometimes -there's two loads of it. We sell it to Mr. Hennesy for fillin' holes -with. He gives us a cent a load. We bought nine cents worth of taffy -on a stick last<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">-226-</a></span> week, an' we're goin' to save up to buy a patrol -wagon."</p> - -<p>One by one the other reports followed. Lena Engel had burned a pile -of rubbish in the alley; Moses Levi had gathered all the old rags on -the street and sold them to the ragman; Mary O'Shea had planted grass -seed in her yard; Pius Coffee had cut down "eight stacks of weeds"; -the little Moriaritys had "filled up a sink hole" on their premises; -Jacob Kohn had stopped putting ashes in the street; and two of the -larger boys had placed a box on the corner, for the disposal of -rubbish. Even the tiniest children had their small stories to tell, -and Miss Billy glowed with pride as the last member of the Street -Cleaning Brigade was heard from.</p> - -<p>"Isn't that splendid?" she said, with face aglow, as she turned to -her two older guests. "Just think what it will mean to Cherry Street -to have citizens of this kind growing up on it!"</p> - -<p>Francis had risen from his place on the grass, and was facing the -small audience.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">-227-</a></span> "May I give my report?" he asked, his brown eyes -twinkling mischievously through his sedate glasses.</p> - -<p>Miss Billy's pleased face was consent enough.</p> - -<p>"You all know how long I have lived on Cherry Street," began Francis; -"just long enough to be greatly interested in your work, and yet -not long enough to accomplish much. During that time I have had two -sidewalks repaired, a new one laid, and some curbing reset. I have -taken down three fences. I have cleared my uncle's yard of weeds, -and we are beginning repairs on his house. I don't know what one's -qualifications must be to belong to your club, but I should like to -join,—here and now."</p> - -<p>The members of the Street Improvement Club cheered with enthusiasm -at this delightful addition to their number. But there was a greater -surprise in store for them.</p> - -<p>"And so would I," said Marie Jean unexpectedly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">-228-</a></span></p> - -<p>Whether it was Francis' example, or the reports of the little ones, -that had inspired the action, it would be hard to say; but the cause -of Marie Jean's conversion was not inquired.</p> - -<p>The pledge was brought out, and amid vociferous applause the names of -Marie Jean Hennesy and Francis Wilde Lindsay were added to the roll.</p> - -<p>"The feast of reason and the flow of soul has come to an end," -announced Miss Billy, as she collected the written reports, and laid -them in a neat pile on the grass. "But our mundane bodies are yet to -be fed. On yonder porch there sits a jug, and in the jug there is -some beer—only root, however. Launcelot, if I pour the drink which -cheers but not inebriates, will you pass the cakes?"</p> - -<p>"Yes-um," replied the boy with alacrity.</p> - -<p>Marie Jean's face was expressive of a little disappointment as -Francis rose from the grass and followed Miss Billy and Launcelot to -the porch.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">-229-</a></span></p> - -<p>"I wonder if I can help her," she said to Ginevra.</p> - -<p>Ginevra's unchildish eyes turned upon the speaker. "She don't need no -help," she said slowly. "Mr. Francis needn't 'a' gone. He just went -'cause he likes her company-ship."</p> - -<p>The children had finished their root beer, and noisily rounded the -corner of the house; and Marie Jean had reluctantly departed with -repeated assurances of her aid in the future, when Miss Billy and -Francis sat down in the deserted yard.</p> - -<p>"It has been a great success," he said. "I cannot thank you enough -for permitting me to enjoy the morning with you. It's a fine work, -Miss Lee."</p> - -<p>The girl looked up brightly. "It was interesting," she admitted. "The -little ones have worked so faithfully and well. I am proud of them -all. But there is so much yet to accomplish. I think Cherry Street -has been effectually aroused, and we can depend on the children to -keep it awake. But it will take so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">-230-</a></span> much money to do what we wish, -and our hands are practically empty."</p> - -<p>Francis was silent for a few moments. "Are there no ways of raising -money?" he said finally. "Seems to me there's energy enough in this -club to earn some."</p> - -<p>"We're going to do that," said Miss Billy. "We are planning a lawn -fête now. The mothers are all going to help us, and the children have -been working like Trojans. It will be held in our yard, and we shall -demand your attendance, and maybe your services. Everybody on the -street will be roped in to help. Of course we will raise some money -in this way, but there are so many things to spend it for. It won't -go half way round."</p> - -<p>Francis pondered.</p> - -<p>"Why don't you try for the Hanson prize?" he asked finally.</p> - -<p>"What <i>is</i> the Hanson prize?"</p> - -<p>"Why, haven't you heard? The papers are full of it to-day. Peter -Hanson, the New York florist, offers a prize of one hundred<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">-231-</a></span> dollars -to be voted to improvements on any city street which makes the -greatest change for the better during this year. The money is to -be awarded about December 25, and the judges are to decide from -photographs,—the 'before and after taking' style, you know."</p> - -<p>Miss Billy's eyes sparkled.</p> - -<p>"I wish we could," she exclaimed.</p> - -<p>"Well, why can't you? Look what fine work you've done in short time. -Think what you can accomplish in almost four months. You won't have -to do much to make a great improvement here, for every little thing -will show. I'll bring out my camera, and we'll take our first picture -to-morrow morning. Then we'll go to work together."</p> - -<p>"Will you help me?" asked Miss Billy delightedly.</p> - -<p>"To be sure I will. Am I not the agent on Cherry Street, and will -not every improvement benefit my uncle's property? It's all a matter -of business, you see. You'll let me help you, won't you?" He held -out his hand question<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">-232-</a></span>ingly. The brown eyes looked into the grey -ones steadily and earnestly. Miss Billy put her hand into his with a -grateful look that spoke volumes.</p> - -<p>"I shall be glad of help," she said simply.</p> - - - - -<hr /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">-233-</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"><span class="gesperrt">CHAPTER XVII</span></a><br /> -<br /> -<span class="sm">THE LAWN SOCIAL</span></h2> - -<div class="center bp"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -“Never was seen such a motley crowd,—<br /> -Never was seen such a merry throng.<br /> -Never was laughter so long and loud:<br /> -Never so merry the jest and song.”<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<div><img style="margin-top: .3em" class="decocap" src="images/deco-c.jpg" width="56" height="55" alt="C" title="C" /></div> -<p class="decocap">CHERRY STREET will be ablaze with light and aglow with colour," -Theodore had mocked some months before. "Number 12 will be filled -with diamond tiaras, and cut glass pianos, and freezers full of ice -cream, to signify that a function is on!" And the spirit of his -prophecy was being fulfilled.</p> - -<p>Miss Billy, herself, had tied eighteen campaign torches to the -front pickets. Now, as the twilight closed in, like tiny watchfires -they sent their welcoming gleams up and down Cherry Street to the -faithful. And the faithful, one hundred fifty strong, headed by Mr.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">-234-</a></span> -Hennesy, in a wonderful dress coat of the fashion of '69, and brought -up in the rear by Mr. Schultzsky, on two stout oaken crutches, partly -for Miss Billy's sake, and partly for the sake of the clean street, -marched to the Street Improvement Club's first lawn social.</p> - -<p>Long vistas of Chinese lanterns in red and blue and yellow swung -gaily over the lawn in double rows. Francis had furnished these. John -Thomas Hennesy had brought two locomotive headlights, and these, -stationed on the side where Miss Billy hoped her "berbarry haidge" -might sometime be, shot their rays across the yard straight into -the faces of the astonished hollyhocks, and beyond, to where Mr. -Hennesy's shirt flapped, wraith-like, on the Hennesy clothes-reel. -The house, thrown wide open, radiated with light and hospitality. -Children, comporting themselves with a dignity befitting the -occasion, were everywhere. And still the people, in twos or threes, -or sometimes shyly alone, with mysterious bundles under their arms -warranted to contain ten cents'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">-235-</a></span> worth of household merchandise, -which they should presently mix up and buy again, kept coming -steadily through the front gate.</p> - -<p>Miss Billy, radiant in a pink gown, with pink sash ribbons fluttering -at her waist, and her eyes shining like stars, squeezed John Thomas's -arm in a little ecstasy of excitement as he knelt in the grass, -putting the rapidly accumulating packages into clothes baskets.</p> - -<p>"It is going to be a success," she predicted joyously. "It seems as -though the people would never stop coming, and when we've sold every -one of these packages at ten cents each, Cherry Street Improvement -Club will have at least fifteen dollars in its treasury. John Thomas, -I'm the happiest girl in the world to-night!"</p> - -<p>"And the prettiest,"—said John Thomas admiringly, sitting back in -the grass, and taking in her appearance critically, from the pink bow -on the top of her head to the toe of her black slipper.</p> - -<p>"Now, that isn't like you," said Miss Billy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">-236-</a></span> reprovingly. "Usually -you don't pay compliments, because you are too truthful; but you -haven't seen Beatrice. She's in shimmery white, with a heavenly thing -thrown over her head. And oh, John Thomas, the dearest, sweetest, -handsomest girl in the world, with the darkest eyes and the waviest -hair, will be here presently. It is Margaret Van Courtland. She's -just home from Germany, and she is coming to the social to-night."</p> - -<p>"Well, you suit me all right," said John Thomas, returning to his -packages with a determined air. Then he added sullenly, "I'd be -feelin' all right, too, to-night, if it wasn't for that darn Francis -Lindsay."</p> - -<p>Miss Billy gasped in astonishment. "Why, what in the world has -Francis been doing to you?"</p> - -<p>"Nothin'," said John Thomas, with a noncommittal air.</p> - -<p>"But you said you didn't like him," persisted Miss Billy, in -bewilderment.</p> - -<p>"Do you?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">-237-</a></span></p> - -<p>"Why, of course I do! I think he's elegant, and—and gentlemanly, and -handsome, and everything! I don't see what you can have against him."</p> - -<p>John Thomas made no reply, but went stubbornly on putting the -packages into the clothes baskets, and Miss Billy sat flat on the -grass to think the matter over.</p> - -<p>"Now you are the second one," she went on, "that has an unreasonable -grudge against Francis. There is Beatrice,—she treats him horridly. -To-day when we were getting things ready, if she had to hand him a -nail, she'd draw up her lips and give it to him as if he were a cat. -It's horrid of Bea,—and I've had to take her to task about it more -than once. And do you know, in spite of it all, I believe Francis -likes her immensely."</p> - -<p>"He seems to like other girls immensely, too," said John Thomas, from -the depths of the basket.</p> - -<p>"Oh, but not like that!" said Miss Billy with conviction. "When -she is out of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">-238-</a></span> room, he watches for her return,—and when she -is in the room, though he talks to me, he looks at <i>her</i>. But you -must never—never breathe it, John Thomas. Beatrice would faint at -the very idea, and she'd never forgive me! It must be a dead secret -between you and me."</p> - -<p>"Is this straight goods you're giving me?" demanded John Thomas, -rising to his full height and gazing down at Miss Billy, seated on -the grass.</p> - -<p>"Why, I've never had any love affairs of my own. I never had anybody -look hard at me, or take snubs cheerfully, or anything of that kind, -you know. But as I said before, it's my conviction it is true."</p> - -<p>"Well," said John Thomas, going down on his knees before the baskets -again, "if it <i>is</i> true,—if it is Miss Beatrice he fancies, why, -then, he won't find no rival in me."</p> - -<p>"Miss Billy, where are you?" called Beatrice, around the corner of -the house. "Margaret is here, and looking everywhere for you."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">-239-</a></span></p> - -<p>Miss Billy hurried away, and in another moment, in the full glare of -a headlight, had her arms around the neck of a tall handsome girl, -who was returning the salutation with interest.</p> - -<p>"Billy!" remonstrated the newcomer laughingly. "You have a hug like a -bear! You've spoiled my hair and crushed my attire. And I am in one -of my best dresses, too, I'll give you to understand! I've brought -six of the girls along with me, and we've pledged ourselves to put a -dollar each in the box, and help make the thing go."</p> - -<p>"Oh, but it's good to see you again," breathed Miss Billy. "My cup -runneth over! I have a thousand things to say to you. Where shall I -commence first?"</p> - -<p>"Defer it till to-morrow," counselled Margaret. "We shall visit all -day. Your time to-night belongs to the lawn fête, not to me,—and -I am here to help you. Introduce me instantly to your Marie Jean -Hennesy, and to your lady of letters with the six children, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">-240-</a></span> I -want to see every flower in the child garden, and Theodore,—oh, but -first of all, let me meet your remarkable Francis Lindsay. Billy, -your letters have taken on a suspicious tone of late!"</p> - -<p>They locked arms in schoolgirl fashion, and came upon Marie Jean, who -was presiding over a lemonade table. Miss Billy introduced them, and -the two types of girlhood, one representing fashion in Cherry Street, -the other the gentle blood of Ashurst Place, gazed intently at each -other.</p> - -<p>Marie Jean was gotten up in a style known as "regardless." She wore -a sweeping black lace dress covered with spangles, that might have -graced a coronation ceremony. The sleeves terminated at the elbows in -two large puffs of blue satin, and her wrists tinkled with bracelets -and bangles. Her hair was bushed in heavy frizzes over her ears, -and in the untidy waves piled high on the top of her head gleamed a -crescent of Rhine stones.</p> - -<p class="illo border"> -<img src="images/p240.jpg" width="500" height="807" alt="illustration" title="illustration" /> -</p> - -<p class="caption">Marie Jean was gotten up in a style known as -“regardless.”</p> - -<p>"My, she's plain!" was Marie Jean's mental<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">-241-</a></span> ejaculation as she -looked at the girl before her. Margaret's pretty dark hair was -parted evenly in the middle, and plaited into heavy Dutch braids -about her shapely head. Her dress was a yellow embroidered mull, -with simple sash ribbons of the same colour. Had it not been for -two slender rings that flashed upon the finger of one hand, Marie -Jean might not have thought her worthy of passing consideration. -But as the girls talked on in a friendly fashion, she gleaned from -Miss Billy's remarks that Margaret was a student of music and the -modern languages:—that she pursued her studies in Europe:—that she -would return in the Spring:—and Marie Jean could no longer doubt -that she was the "real thing." Moreover, she was pretty,—undeniably -pretty,—with dark eyes, and white even teeth. Marie Jean wondered -if "he" might not fancy this stranger, and for the first time in her -life, she considered her own personal attractions with misgivings.</p> - -<p>A rush of lemonade trade separated the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">-242-</a></span> girls, and Miss Billy and -Margaret, wending their way on, came upon Francis, lifting over the -back fence a load of belated chairs, borrowed from the church.</p> - -<p>"I'll call Moses Levi to do this,—you've worked enough to-day," -ordered Miss Billy. "Beside, I want to introduce you to my very -dearest friend, Margaret Van Courtland."</p> - -<p>As Francis flecked the dust from his clothes and came forward, a ray -of the headlight fell directly upon Margaret's face. "I have had the -pleasure of meeting Miss Van Courtland before," he said, without a -moment's hesitation.</p> - -<p>"I beg your pardon," said Margaret uncertainly,—"I cannot -remember——" Then as the light fell upon his tall form, handsome -face, and dark, grave eyes, she gave a little gasp, and floundered -helplessly in a sea of words. "Why,—I had no idea!—of course, we -met in Cologne,—that is, we both fell in the mud!—Miss Billy, this -is the <i>Count</i>!"</p> - -<hr class="med" /> - -<p>On a lawn seat, in the flare of the campaign<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">-243-</a></span> torches, Mr. Hennesy, -a glass of lemonade in hand, held forth to a bevy of Miss Van -Courtland's fashionable friends on the superiority of masculine -intellect as compared to that of woman.</p> - -<p>"Sure an' phwat if a man cut off th' top av his coat, an' sewed it -onto th' lig av his pants, to thrail in th' mud afther 'im? Sure an' -wudn't ye be afther thinkin' he was crazy? Answer me thot, now?"</p> - -<p>"Why, of course we would," answered the girls in a breath. "But then, -Mr. Hennesy, we don't——"</p> - -<p>"Wait now," said Mr. Hennesy, holding up one finger triumphantly. -"Be aisy a bit. There's one p'int scored fer th' masculoine moind! -Now thin,—phwat if I sh'ud be afther comin' here to-noight wid a -feather shtuck up in me hair, or a gould buttherfly hoverin' over me -forehead, th' same as ye have? Wudn't ye be afther thinkin' me brain -no heavier than me head-dress? Answer me thot, now."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">-244-</a></span></p> - -<p>"It certainly would look funny," admitted the girls laughingly.</p> - -<p>"There's two p'ints scored fer th' masculoine moind!" counted off Mr. -Hennesy. "An' now,—if besides havin' a feather or a buttherfly in me -head, I'd be daubin' me face wid red paint——"</p> - -<p>"Oh, but we don't do that!" protested the girls in chorus.</p> - -<p>"Some ladies does," said Mr. Hennesy sententiously. "Thot's three -p'ints in favour of the masculoine moind!"</p> - -<hr class="med" /> - -<p>On the sofa, in the corner of the parlour, Beatrice had found Mr. -Schultzsky, looking very pale and tired.</p> - -<p>"I haf been looking for my nephew," said the old man. "I think we -should go home."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Mr. Lindsay is surrounded by admiring young ladies," answered -Beatrice. "It would be a pity to spoil his good time. Beside, you -must wait and have a mystery package.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">-245-</a></span> They are selling at ten cents -each, and every one is warranted."</p> - -<p>She brought from the kitchen a cup of tea and a slice of cake, and -settled the tray cozily on the old man's knees. "They don't seem to -need me in the garden, so I shall stay with you," she said. "May I -sing for you?"</p> - -<p>She seated herself at the piano, and hesitated a moment, wondering -what style of song the old man might like. "Something old-fashioned, -anyhow," she decided, and began in a sweet contralto voice "The -Pilgrim."</p> - -<div class="center"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -"I'm a pilgrim, and I'm a stranger,<br /> -I can tarry, I can tarry but a night:<br /> -To that country where I am going,<br /> -My Redeemer, my Redeemer is the light.<br /> -There is no sorrow,—nor any sighing,<br /> -Nor any tears there,—nor any dying:<br /> -I'm a pilgrim, and I'm a stranger,<br /> -I can tarry, I can tarry but a night."<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p>There was the sound of a crutch on the floor, and Beatrice was amazed -to find Mr.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">-246-</a></span> Schultzsky standing at her side, wiping his eyes on his -red cotton handkerchief.</p> - -<p>"My wife wass young like you," he said brokenly, "and she sang the -same song. It wass a long time ago. She lifed only three months."</p> - -<p>"I am sorry, Mr. Schultzsky," was all Beatrice found to say. She -thought of the picture of the beautiful lady, hung crooked and high -on the wall, opposite the old harness. "Perhaps grief and loneliness -have made him what he is," she thought pityingly. "Miss Billy is -right. There is a tender side to everybody, if we can only find it."</p> - -<p>Outside on a platform improvised from an over-turned tub Policeman -Canary was selling off the packages with neatness and despatch. Mr. -Hennesy disported a pair of ladies' side combs in his hair. Mrs. -Hennesy had a mouse-trap. Margaret Van Courtland became the happy -possessor of a pound of dried codfish, Francis had a pair of red -mittens, three sizes too small. Miss Billy drew a fire shovel, John<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">-247-</a></span> -Thomas got a mouth organ, and Mrs. Canary revelled in a dream book. -Theodore was going round with an ornamental and very sticky candy -heart that one of the children had contributed, begging every one to -accept it,—and finally traded it to Marie Jean Hennesy for a bottle -of catsup.</p> - -<p>"We'll open ours together," said Beatrice, coming back to Mr. -Schultzsky in the parlour.</p> - -<p>Inside the wrappings in Mr. Schultzsky's hand lay a dainty thing, -tied in tissue paper and blue ribbon. "Oh, it's what Margaret Van -Courtland brought," exclaimed Beatrice. It was a lady's handkerchief, -sheer and fine, edged about with a delicate lace. It lay in the old -man's palm, yielding up a faint perfume and he gazed at it without -speaking.</p> - -<p>"And I," said Beatrice brightly, "have a package of smoking tobacco! -Now that will be handy next Spring to pack away my furs."</p> - -<p>The children grew sleepy, and the torches burned out, before the -guests departed. Every one was in holiday humour. Every one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">-248-</a></span> voted it -a success, and begged Miss Billy to set an early date for another. -Miss Billy, tired but elated, counted the money in the tin box. -"Twenty-five dollars!" she announced jubilantly. "With that amount -the Improvement Club shall work wonders. There is a five-dollar bill -here. I wonder if anybody could have contributed that amount?"</p> - -<p>"Mr. Schultzsky put that in,—that is, he gave it to me to put in for -him," answered Beatrice quietly.</p> - -<p>"Now what do you suppose can have come over the spirit of the old -fellow's dream?" said Theodore. "Maybe he's enamoured of you, Bea."</p> - -<p>"No, I think not," said Beatrice soberly. "I believe it was the -stirring of a tender memory. He talked to me to-night of a girl wife, -who died."</p> - -<p>"Well, it has been a night of nights, and I am not surprised at -anything," said Miss Billy. "To think that Francis should prove to be -the Count, and Margaret and her set should go<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">-249-</a></span> wild over him! Did you -know, Beatrice, that he is a Princeton graduate;—and has had a year -at Heidelberg, beside?"</p> - -<p>Beatrice yawned. "Is there any more to do to-night?" she said. "I'm -very sleepy."</p> - - - - -<hr /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">-250-</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"><span class="gesperrt">CHAPTER XVIII</span></a><br /> -<br /> -<span class="sm">MARGARET LENDS ASSISTANCE</span></h2> - -<div class="center bp"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -“Though whatsoever ills betide,<br /> -I’ll stand for ever by your side,<br /> -And naught shall you and me divide<br /> -Because you are my friend.”<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<div><img style="margin-top: .3em" class="decocap" src="images/deco-t.jpg" width="56" height="56" alt="T" title="T" /></div> -<p class="decocap">THE only nice thing about your going away is your coming home -again," said Miss Billy to Margaret.</p> - -<p>The two girls were seated side by side on the floor in Margaret's -room, which bore a startling resemblance to a fancy bazaar. The bed -was filled with airy masses of silk and gauze, the divan covered -with ribbons and gloves and shoes, and the floor strewn with a -varied assortment of hats, perfumery flasks, filigree silver and -handkerchiefs. Margaret's last trunk had arrived from abroad, and -the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">-251-</a></span> two girls were spending the morning at that mysterious and -delightful task known to all womankind as "unpacking."</p> - -<p>"It's the next best thing to going away myself," continued Miss -Billy, "to have you go; and come home with so much of the foreign -atmosphere about you. Your sentences fairly ooze Rhine water, and -foreign castles, and pretzels."</p> - -<p>"Am I as bad as that?" laughed Margaret. "You remember Edward -Eggleston's woman, whose topic of conversation was always, 'when I -was to Bosting.' Do I give the impression of having been to Bosting?"</p> - -<p>"Certainly you do," accused Miss Billy. "You've talked of nothing -else since your return. Of course I might confess that I've egged you -on a little,—a very little,—for politeness' sake. Oh, Peggy dear, -it does seem so inexpressibly adorable to have you here again!"</p> - -<p>"In order that you may tell me I talk too much," laughed Margaret -again. "Never<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">-252-</a></span> mind, Miss Billy. Your turn will come in a few -moments, and I know from your eager and glittering eye that you have -much to tell yourself. Here is the box I was looking for. I put the -little things I got for you when I was abroad all together so that I -could have the fun of seeing you open them."</p> - -<p>"The little things" filled a long pasteboard box, with a queer -foreign picture on the label. Margaret tossed it over on her friend's -lap. Inside were a number of bundles and packages, two long tubes of -pasteboard, and several smaller boxes. Miss Billy's lips trembled -with a smile in which tenderness as well as joy was mingled.</p> - -<p>"I can't tell you——" she began.</p> - -<p>"Open them quick," commanded Margaret. "I want to see if they're -right. Everything in the box was chosen especially for you."</p> - -<p>Miss Billy obediently untied the packages. Margaret's words were -true. Everything in the box had been chosen with a loving care that -made the gifts still sweeter. There was a flame-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">-253-</a></span>coloured shawl of -soft clinging crêpe, a gay Roman sash, a string of pale pink corals, -four pairs of gloves in various shades of tan, a small gauze fan -with ivory sticks, some carved wooden animals from the Black Forest, -a set of crystals in purple and white, and best of all—two large -photographs of famous paintings—the little Angel of the Lute, and -the boy St. John.</p> - -<p>"Mother has something else for you," said Margaret, delighted at the -evident success of her gifts. "She found three long pongee coats for -you and Beatrice and me. They are just alike except for the trimming, -and she thought it would be fun for us to have them alike."</p> - -<p>Miss Billy glanced down at the heap of treasures in her lap to hide -the grateful tears in her eyes. "I don't know how to thank you," she -began unsteadily.</p> - -<p>"Oh, pshaw," returned Margaret. "You'd better compose some grateful -resolutions, in nine or ten whereases, which will express your -emotions. I don't remember that I ever wept<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">-254-</a></span> tears of thankfulness -over the things you brought me from Chinatown when you went West. I -merely received them as what was due me by all the laws of right and -justice. That yellow shawl will make you look like a dream, Billy. I -thought of your browny-coppery hair when I bought it."</p> - -<p>"It isn't the <i>things</i> that I'm grateful for," began Miss Billy -smiling through her tears. "It's just that you're home again, I -guess. You don't know how much I've missed you, Peggy. You know, -dear, it makes lots of difference in the number of friends one has, -if one moves from Ashurst Place to Cherry Street."</p> - -<p>"Why?" asked Margaret innocently.</p> - -<p>"That's just what I knew you'd say," exclaimed Miss Billy. "A thing -like that would never occur to you. But it does occur to the majority -of people."</p> - -<p>"Do you mean to say that your old friends have treated you -differently since you—you moved?" demanded Margaret indignantly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">-255-</a></span></p> - -<p>"Yes, I do mean that," responded Miss Billy. There was a moment's -hesitation before she added proudly, "Of course, Margaret, I don't -feel that it has made any difference with <i>me</i>. Only I have to admit -to you that it does make a big difference with others."</p> - -<p>"With whom, for instance?" questioned Margaret. "The Blanchards and -their ilk? I thought so. Wilhelmina Lee, you don't dare to tell me -that the Blanchard tribe <i>can</i> hurt you?"</p> - -<p>There was a world of comfort in Margaret's loyal voice, and Miss -Billy was forced to smile at her vehemence.</p> - -<p>"I should be ashamed of you if I thought they could," went on -Margaret. "They are such a punk lot—if you'll excuse my English. -We met Mrs. Blanchard and the girls in Germany, and they were kind -enough to offer us their escort through Europe. Mrs. Blanchard is -a regular Old Woman of the Sea, and we were afraid we would either -have to commit suicide or murder to get rid of her. She attached -her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">-256-</a></span>self to mamma, and always called her 'my dear,' before strangers. -She introduced papa as 'the Honourable Mr. Van Courtland'—you can -imagine how furious that made my respected parent! And as for me, in -a burst of affection, one day, she assured me that any one who had -seen me six years ago would never have thought I 'would turn out so -well!'"</p> - -<p>The imitation of Mrs. Blanchard's caressing tones was perfect.</p> - -<p>"She also told us the news of our friends," continued Margaret. "Of -course I asked about you, the first thing; and she responded that you -were interesting yourself in settlement work. It was such a laudable -and praiseworthy undertaking, but she understood that it was apt to -be dirty; and—now don't be mad—Miss Billy—a little unmaidenly, for -a young girl. Naturally my ire rose, and I replied that I thought it -was the loveliest thing that a girl could do; that I had heard about -what you had accomplished on Cherry Street, and that the moment<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">-257-</a></span> I -got home I was going to help,—if I wasn't too stupid. You don't mind -my telling you all this, do you, Billy?"</p> - -<p>Margaret's guest was surveying her with shining eyes and eager -expression. She did not seem to hear the last question. "Oh, will -you? Will you?" she demanded delightedly. "Oh, Peggy, you can help so -much if you will."</p> - -<p>Margaret threw aside the masses of chiffon she had been folding, and -faced Miss Billy with straightforward eyes. "How?" she asked. Miss -Billy hesitated. There was help needed in so many places. Then the -pathetic face of Holly Belle rose before her. She thought of the worn -little hands that thumped imaginary times on every piece of furniture -in the house, of the sad little voice that spent its sweetness in -lullabies, and of the starved little soul that was pining for the -melody that had been utterly left out of her life. She remembered -the unchildish expression of longing for a piano, and she told -Holly Belle's sorry little<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">-258-</a></span> story in a way that was very touching. -Margaret's eyes grew tender, and her voice was very sweet as she said -simply:</p> - -<p>"I am more than ever glad of my music now. I shall love to help her. -And she shall practice on my piano, too. Tell me all you have been -doing on Cherry Street," said Margaret, as Miss Billy ratified the -agreement with a grateful look that spoke volumes.</p> - -<p>"Not very much," said Miss Billy modestly. "In fact, I haven't -attempted much. 'Settlement work,' as our friend Mrs. Blanchard so -genteelly put it, is not in my line. When I first went to live on -the street I had great ideas of Improvement and Progress, with a -big I and P. There was such grand opportunity for both. I had in my -mind's eye a view of Cherry Street, shining with cleanliness and -beauty; the neighbourhood united by a community of interests, and -the thoroughfare famed far and wide as a model avenue. Now if I can -get the Canarys to deposit their garbage in a barrel instead of the -gutter, can induce the Levi chil<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">-259-</a></span>dren and the little Hogans to stop -fighting at least one night out of the week, and can tell the street -car conductor to let me off near Cherry Street without having him -say, 'Where's that, lady?' I shall be satisfied."</p> - -<p>"But what about the Child Garden and the Civic Improvement Club? -Mr. Lindsay—I shall never cease to call him the Count to my own -soul—says that you have already lured him into the work, and are -going to give him a gymnasium class to manage as soon as cold weather -begins. And that willowy lady at the lawn fête who assured me that -she was 'the mother of a numerous prodigy, and naturally restricted -to her home circle——'"</p> - -<p>"That was Mrs. Canary——"</p> - -<p>"Told me that you were the inspiring genii of the place, and that you -had everybody on the street under the charm of your dainty thumb."</p> - -<p>"She ought to see my hands after this unpacking seance," put in Miss -Billy.</p> - -<p>"Don't interrupt, I'm not through yet. And<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">-260-</a></span> Miss Marie Jean Hennesy -assured me that since Mr. Lindsay came you had 'waked up to the needs -of the street.' But the best is yet to come. Marie Jean's father, -the old philosopher who appeared in the frock coat of the vintage of -'69—complimented you up to the skies. He said that it was well that -there was only one o' Miss Billy, or the street 'ud be baked with the -sunshine she made."</p> - -<p>Miss Billy had sunk back against the bed, overpowered by the assault -of praises.</p> - -<p>"'I was never so bethumped with words,'" she quoted. "I'm not -accustomed to such flattery."</p> - -<p>"Well, don't be so painfully modest, then. There's no sense in -concealing things from me, Miss Billy. Other people will tell me if -you don't. Papa and mamma wrote me the whole history of your triumphs -two months ago,—the people on Cherry Street openly dote and gloat -over you, and as for '<i>Miss</i> Francis Lindsay'—if it were any one -else but you I should be devoured with jealousy!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">-261-</a></span></p> - -<p>"Mr. Lindsay has been of great help to me," said Miss Billy simply. -Her face was very happy. Up to the present time she had felt that -the work had been its own reward, but it was very sweet to have it -appreciated by others.</p> - -<p>"He <i>is</i> a nice fellow," said Margaret. "Simple and manly, I mean, -and without the conceit that usually goes with those boys of brain -and brawn, who have led their class and been captain of the college -football team. Of course, Miss Billy, I'm perfectly willing that he -should help you with your civic improvement work, but don't ever fail -to remember that I saw him first!"</p> - -<p>"I won't forget," laughed Miss Billy. "But you must take care, -Margaret. Marie Jean, according to Mrs. Canary, has a 'manner that's -tinged with romantickism towards Mr. Francis.' However, as long as he -is willing to help me in the Cherry Street work, I suppose you will -permit me to use him. A boy can do more than a girl in many ways, and -since Theo<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">-262-</a></span>dore has gone to work I often feel the need of a masculine -hand."</p> - -<p>"I suppose he comes in handily in chastising the Canary birds? How -you must miss Ted during the whole day? You have always been together -so much."</p> - -<p>"I do miss him," responded Miss Billy soberly. Ted's hard lot had not -yet ceased to leave a sore spot in his sister's heart. "Still I do -admire him for sticking to his work."</p> - -<p>"Do you know that he has changed much in the last six months?" -inquired Margaret. "Of course he has grown much taller, but that -isn't all. He seems so much older and more sedate. He laughs and -jokes, but the old happy-go-lucky boy is gone. The change is -delightful, but I do confess I miss the old teasing Ted."</p> - -<p>Miss Billy looked a little anxious. "Yes, I know it," she said. "I -have noticed it myself recently, and I've worried over it a little."</p> - -<div class="center"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -"Never let yourself be worried,<br /> -<span class="i1">Or hurried, or flurried,"</span><br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p>sang Margaret.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">-263-</a></span></p> - -<p>"I'm not worrying or flurrying," retorted Miss Billy. "And as for -hurrying"—she held up the new gloves as she spoke—</p> - -<div class="center"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -"Time kid and I were home<br /> -Half an hour ago.<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p>"If I dared I should put on my new beads, my scarf, my sash and my -crêpe shawl, and, carrying my new fan in my neatly gloved hands, -should go home arrayed in all my glory; but I know I should die of -pride before I reached my humble doorstep. So I shall wrap them up -tightly, and say 'fine feathers do not make fine birds' over and over -all my way home. Oh, Peggoty, I never dreamed that I should actually -own a string of coral beads myself!"</p> - -<p>"I wish you could stay to luncheon," sighed Margaret. "However, I'm -coming for you with the cart this afternoon, and after we drive we'll -come here for dinner. You'll have to, you see, in order to try on the -coat before mother."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">-264-</a></span></p> - -<p>"Don't offer any inducements," said Miss Billy. "I shall continue to -live with you from now on. Tie your German flag to the window as a -signal when you don't want to see me. I shall come here for music, -for companionship, for comfort, for help, and for advice. In short, -Margaret, you'll be sorry, before the autumn begins, that you are -such an 'eddicated person.' I may possibly have mentioned this fact -to you before, but I <i>am</i> glad, glad, glad that you are at home -again."</p> - - - - -<hr /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">-265-</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"><span class="gesperrt">CHAPTER XIX</span></a><br /> -<br /> -<span class="sm">PERSONAL PLEASURE</span></h2> - -<div class="center bp"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -“How sad, and bad, and mad it was!<br /> -But then how it was sweet!”<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<div><img style="margin-top: .3em" class="decocap" src="images/deco-s.jpg" width="54" height="54" alt="S" title="S" /></div> -<p class="decocap">SCHOOL commences Monday," groaned Theodore dismally, from his -favourite position on the couch. "How I am to modulate my tones to -Virgil's verse after shouting at Mr. Hennesy's mules for two months, -I can't see. As for a geometrical theorem, I haven't a single lucid -idea on the subject. It's been a great summer, come to look back on -it."</p> - -<p>"Dear me," said Miss Billy, throwing down the book she was -reading,—"I don't see how I am going to break loose from everything -and go back to school. The Canary birdlings will be just as dirty and -ill-cared for as ever,—and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">-266-</a></span> little Mike, and Isaac Levi, and a half -dozen others are too young for the public kindergarten. Then there's -the Street Improvement Club, and the mothers' meetings,—why, I don't -see what I am to do."</p> - -<p>Beatrice looked up from the lunch cloth she was hemstitching for a -church fair. "If you can trust the smaller children to me," she said -timidly, "I think I can take care of them. I was talking to Mrs. -Canary to-day. I told her she could send the twins and Mikey over -every morning for two hours, as usual. She seemed so relieved and -happy over it, and promised that Holly Belle should go to school."</p> - -<p>"Oh," cried Miss Billy, with shining eyes, "it's lovely of you, Bea, -and Holly Belle will be wild with delight. But those babies are the -slipp'riest things when they're wet!"</p> - -<p>"I shall not drop them," said Beatrice firmly. "I shall think of -Holly Belle all the time, and that her chances depend upon my -success. All the rest of the little brood shall have as conscientious -care as I can give them for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">-267-</a></span> two hours every day,—but I don't expect -it to be easy for me, as it is for you."</p> - -<p>"Oh, they'll love you, Bea," said Miss Billy enthusiastically. "You -don't know what dear little things they are, especially just after -they've been washed. Well, <i>that's</i> settled, then. Margaret will be -glad to relieve you at any time, I know,—and she will continue to -look after Holly Belle's music, too. The way the child takes to it is -simply wonderful. Francis, of course, will continue at the head of -the Street Improvement Club."</p> - -<p>"Five long days between this and school, and nothing to do!" murmured -Theodore luxuriously from the couch. "I shall drive no mules,—I -shall instruct no growing intellects. Fads may continue to lead Miss -Billy round by the nose, up to the very last minute,—but I shall do -nothing at all!"</p> - -<p>"It has been a busy summer," said Mrs. Lee, with a half arrested sigh.</p> - -<p>"Is it good news, papa?" asked Beatrice of her father, who in the -soft glow of the study<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">-268-</a></span> lamp had been perusing the illegibly scrawled -sheets of a special delivery letter.</p> - -<p>"It is more!" said the minister impressively. "It is a vindication of -human nature under the worst circumstances. Nearly twenty years ago -a young fellow came to me for assistance. He had been in a hospital -with a fever, and had neither money, work or friends. He wanted to -go out West, where he thought he might be able to find employment. -I drew him out about his past life, and found he knew what it was -to sleep in a haystack and be lodged in a jail: but I lent him -twenty-five dollars——"</p> - -<p>"And he has died a millionaire and bequeathed you a fortune," wound -up Theodore dramatically, sitting upright.</p> - -<p>"No," said the minister, smiling, "those things happen only in books. -What the fellow has really done is to return me the amount I lent -him, with a half-manly sort of a letter showing he has cherished -a sense of gratitude all these years. That is much more than I -expected."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">-269-</a></span></p> - -<p>"Conscience money!" groaned Beatrice. "I suppose it will go to the -poor."</p> - -<p>"Let us hope to the deserving poor, like me!" observed Theodore, -dismally echoing the groan, and collapsing on the couch again.</p> - -<p>"Or like father," said Miss Billy severely. "It would buy him lots of -things he needs."</p> - -<p>The minister sat tapping his glasses with smiling introspection. -"When I was a lad," he said slowly, "I desired with all my heart and -soul a certain steam toy. It was rather a clever contrivance, and of -course, was expensive. But I wanted it more than I've wanted anything -since. Sometimes I dream I am a boy again, and always I see standing -in the black shadow of disappointment that steam toy."</p> - -<p>"And father's going to buy it now," said Theodore breathlessly.</p> - -<p>"No," said the minister, shaking his head: "It's too late! that's the -worst of it. But<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">-270-</a></span> that was a distinct disappointment in my life that -no amount of reasoning could reason me out of."</p> - -<p>"It makes me think of an incident of my own childhood," said Mrs. -Lee. "When I was about five years old, I attended my first party, -given by a neighbour's child. All I can remember is that a black-eyed -lady with dark curly hair passed a platter of tarts, and with an -indistinct idea that it was a well-bred thing to do, I said, 'No, -thank you,—I don't eat tarts.' Then I sat with welling eyes watching -the other little guests eat theirs. It was a very real grief. I -cried for that tart in the loneliness of many nights,—and I haven't -forgotten it in thirty years."</p> - -<p>"It is my belief that every one has ungratified whims," said the -minister. "Some are grown-up whims, but none the less whimsical. -I propose that we use this money for the gratification of purely -personal pleasure. There will be five dollars for each of us. We'll -have one glorious day of vacation,—with the world<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">-271-</a></span> before us, and -five dollars for spending money!"</p> - -<p>"I know what I should like to buy with mine," said Beatrice, "but I -know you would all think it silly."</p> - -<p>"And I've had an ungratified whim for years!" said Miss Billy, rising -and overthrowing a pile of books in her excitement. "But you'll call -it preposterous when you find out what it is!"</p> - -<p>"Now watch her bring home a bear cub with a silver chain round -its neck, and want me to build it a little pagoda to live in," -said Theodore disdainfully. "But I know what I am going to do. I -shall be the Count of Monte Cristo for one day only. Remember the -date,—September the first,—to-morrow!"</p> - -<p>"But it does seem a little wasteful," began Mrs. Lee, smiling in -spite of herself at the exuberance of spirit in the air, "especially -when——"</p> - -<p>The minister interrupted, a mischievous ring in his voice. "I beg to -remind you, Mrs. Lee,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">-272-</a></span> that 'All work and no play makes Jack a dull -boy.' We intend to have a lark. To relieve your mind let me add that -I myself shall go on an eminently respectable lark,—one that shall -not estrange me from my flock, for instance. We intend for one day -to divide our ages by two, and no remainder. You shall be one of us, -or forfeit your money. Though poor in pocket, we shall be rich in -experiences. Do you agree?"</p> - -<p>There was much bustling commotion at Number 12 Cherry Street the next -morning. "I've sent word to the children not to come to-day," said -Miss Billy, putting on her hat and tucking her rain coat under her -arm. "Poor little things,—they'll be disappointed. Well,—good-bye, -Bea,—I shall not see you again till night."</p> - -<p>"Now do be careful, Wilhelmina," warned Beatrice. "Don't buy anything -you don't want, or make yourself conspicuous in any way, or——"</p> - -<p>"Why," said Miss Billy, "I am going to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">-273-</a></span> gratify a heretofore -ungratified whim. There are no conditions whatever. I have divided -my age by two, the world is before me, and I have five dollars for -spending money. Well, good-bye again; take care of yourself, dear," -and Miss Billy sailed off down the street.</p> - -<p>Theodore went next. He was attired in his very best clothes, and -presented a fashionable appearance in a fearfully high collar and a -white tie. Then the minister departed. Beatrice could hear him say -to her mother in the hall, "I haven't had such delightful chills of -anticipation since I took part in cane rushes at college twenty-five -years ago. And I haven't the slightest idea what I'm going to do, -either!"</p> - -<p>Next Beatrice heard the door close after her mother's retreating -form. She peeped out of the window and noted she carried a shopping -bag. "The dear," she said. "She will buy us all stockings or gloves, -and declare it was a purely personal whim. But it won't be keeping to -the contract if she does!"</p> - -<p>It was quite ten o'clock when Beatrice left<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">-274-</a></span> the house. She was -dressed in her best street gown, with dainty hat and gloves to match. -As she closed the door behind her, Francis Lindsay was just coming -out of his uncle's gate. He lifted his hat to her, and then crossed -the street. "I hope Miss Billy isn't ill?" he inquired, with a shade -of constraint in his manner. "I've heard, you see, of the child -garden being discontinued to-day."</p> - -<p>"No, she is not ill," answered Beatrice, feeling with embarrassment -the colour creeping into her cheeks. "If I could only get over this -silly habit of blushing every time a stranger speaks to me," she -thought angrily,—and then blushed more furiously than ever.</p> - -<p>There was nothing to do but walk along, and Francis, who evidently -also was on his way down town, walked with her. He talked pleasantly, -but Beatrice's replies were sadly disconnected.</p> - -<p>"He noticed me blush," she kept thinking hotly. "No doubt he is -conceited enough to attribute it to his own personal charms!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">-275-</a></span></p> - -<p>She welcomed the first store as an avenue of escape, and bade him -good-morning. "He has just spoiled my day," she thought, as she -tossed over silk stockings and lace handkerchiefs in a flurry. "I'm -always making myself ridiculous!"</p> - -<p>But the zest of shopping came back to her, and she visited store -after store, looking at pretty, dainty, feminine things, feeling her -money always safe in her pocket, and knowing exactly what she should -be weak enough to buy in the end. But it was nearly three o'clock in -the afternoon, and she was feeling tired and a little dishevelled and -very hungry, before she came to the Mecca of her wanderings.</p> - -<p>It was a fashionable shoe-store, and in the very centre of the -show window hung a fascinating pair of little red satin slippers, -with Louis Quinze heels. Beatrice shut her eyes and grappled with -temptation. "I haven't a thing that's suitable to go with them," she -argued to herself. "In fact, I believe they would be out of place -anywhere but in a French dressing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">-276-</a></span> room. But they are so sweet and -dainty with their beautiful little gilt heels——"</p> - -<p>She opened the door and went in. The place was filled with customers, -but a bustling salesman came forward and smiled into Beatrice's -pretty flushed face. Yes, certainly, he would take them out of the -show window. They were the only pair in stock,—a sample pair. He -tried one of the satin slippers on Beatrice's dainty foot, and -stepped back to admire the effect. "They are a perfect fit," he -exclaimed.</p> - -<p>"Yes," said Beatrice. They pinched her toes a little, but she would -not wear them often. "Five dollars, did you say?" Then she should -have to wait for the silk hose to match. She had hoped they would not -be more than four. She pondered a moment, and then decided aloud, -"I'll take them."</p> - -<p>The salesman hurried away to put them in their box, and Beatrice, -looking around for the first time, encountered the keen glance of a -pair of dark eyes at the opposite counter. It was Francis Lindsay.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">-277-</a></span></p> - -<p>There was one dismayed moment,—then she hastily averted her glance -without bowing in recognition. "He has watched me buy those silly -slippers," she thought, growing red and white by turns. "He has -stood there watching me admire myself in them. His eyes were full of -unutterable things. Oh, I just—hate him!"</p> - -<p>She glanced into the long mirror opposite, and it reflected back a -figure from which all the morning daintiness had fled. Her boots -were dusty, her gloves gaping at the fingers. The jaunty hat was -awry;—her face was flushed, and burned with fatigue and heat.</p> - -<p>The salesman returned with the package, and Beatrice gave him the -five-dollar bill. She hastily left the store, and, still with averted -eyes, bumped into the very person she was seeking to avoid.</p> - -<p>"I beg your pardon," he said, raising his hat. "It was my -awkwardness. I stopped to raise my umbrella. You see it rains a -little." Then noticing that she carried no umbrella, and that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">-278-</a></span> she -was looking very tired, he asked kindly, "Are you going home?"</p> - -<p>"I think I am ready for home," answered Beatrice, trying to keep the -tears out of her voice. "I've been down town since ten o'clock——" -She stopped suddenly, the absurdity of the statement coupled with the -single package of which he had relieved her, appealing to her with -full force.</p> - -<p>"But you've had luncheon?"</p> - -<p>"I am not at all hungry," declared Beatrice perversely. She was very -near to tears, and she felt that another question on his part might -precipitate them.</p> - -<p>"This is the very time to have you taste the German cake they call -'puffer,' and which can be had only in this shop," said Francis,—and -almost before she knew it he had led the way into a caterer's, and -a neat little maid was taking an order for iced chocolate and the -German sweet-bread.</p> - -<p>"What would father say?" she thought despairingly. "What will Miss -Billy say? What<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">-279-</a></span> shall I say to myself, to-morrow?" But for the -present she was strangely content to sit in restful retirement -opposite this grave dark-eyed young fellow, Mr. Schultzsky's -grand-nephew, and satisfy her hunger with the iced chocolate and -delicious German cake.</p> - -<p class="illo border"> -<img src="images/p279.jpg" width="500" height="722" alt="illustration" title="illustration" /> -</p> - -<p class="caption">She was telling him the history of the day.</p> - -<p>Strangely, too, in a few moments she was telling him the history -of the day, and Francis was laughing heartily. "That accounts for -the oddity of Miss Billy's actions," he declared. "I saw her riding -on the top of an empty omnibus, clad in the sombre disguise of a -raincoat. But she evidently didn't care if I knew her, for she waved -her hand to me from her elevated perch."</p> - -<p>Beatrice was too tired to be horrified. "I knew she would do -something dreadful," she said, "but I, certainly, shall offer no -criticism."</p> - -<p>It was a tired little family group that gathered in the minister's -study that night.</p> - -<p>"I had no idea," said Theodore, from the couch, "that it used a -fellow up so to have a gay time. I took dinner at the 'Alhambra,'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">-280-</a></span> -ordering the best the place afforded, only cutting out the wines. -That cost me two dollars, and I tipped the waiter with a quarter. -Then I took a cab to the horse show, and took in the matinee on the -way back. It cost me a dollar for a seat in the parquet. I didn't -have enough money left for supper, so I ate two mince pies at a -restaurant and I've got a nickel left."</p> - -<p>"Well," said Miss Billy, "it comes easier to tell my story since I've -heard Theodore's. I've always had the greatest desire to ride on the -top of an omnibus and look at things from that point of view. I knew -for appearance's sake I couldn't trundle back and forth from the -trains, so I hired a whole omnibus for myself, with a driver, to take -me out into the country. It was grand! It seemed as though the whole -world was unrolled before me! It gave me a feeling of being some -great bird flying through the air——"</p> - -<p>"A wild goose, for instance!" put in Theodore disgustedly.</p> - -<p>"Well I'm not an ostrich, anyhow, to eat all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">-281-</a></span> a hotel affords and two -mince pies on top of it!" retorted Miss Billy, with spirit. "That -omnibus ride cost me four dollars, but it was worth it. Then I bought -a box of chocolates and came home."</p> - -<p>"Now I suppose it's my turn," said the minister. "The first thing I -saw when I left the house this morning was a load of watermelons. -They were unusually fine melons, and the boy offered me the whole -wagon load dirt cheap."</p> - -<p>"Father!" broke in Miss Billy tragically, "what can I do with the -rinds of a wagon load of watermelons, to say nothing of the seeds? We -couldn't clean it up in weeks!"</p> - -<p>"I had an idea your mother pickled the rinds," said the minister -mildly.</p> - -<p>"Consider pickling a wagon load of watermelon rinds," groaned -Beatrice. "Beside, papa, we don't pickle the shell!"</p> - -<p>"Cease your lamentations," said Theodore, with a wave of his hand. "I -see in this the nucleus of a great business enterprise, that shall -live, flourish and spread,—and shall be known<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">-282-</a></span> in the future as the -'Lee Pickle Works.' I shall be president, father can be buyer, and -Miss Billy and Bea can do the pickling."</p> - -<p>"Well," went on the minister, "I'm glad now I didn't buy the -melons,—but it was certainly a temptation, they were such fine -ones. The next thing I seemed to fancy was a buggy robe,—just five -dollars,—so warm, and handsome, too, in the brown and gold colours -your mother likes. But I happened to remember we didn't have a buggy, -so I gave that up."</p> - -<p>"This seems to be all about the things father didn't buy," said -Theodore astutely. "He's giving us mild shocks, so we can bear the -climax of what he did buy."</p> - -<p>"I assure you I ran the gamut of temptations," said the minister. "At -two o'clock I had about decided on a bull terrier pup. At three I was -discussing the merits of a newfangled washing machine. But I finally -ended it all by wandering into a fashionable photograph gallery and -sitting for a picture,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">-283-</a></span> in the latest style. It will not be finished -till next week, though."</p> - -<p>There was great clapping of hands as this recital was finished. -"Motherie next," called Miss Billy.</p> - -<p>"I have no story to relate," protested Mrs. Lee. "Knowing exactly -what I wanted, I went straight and bought it. Five dollars' worth of -pots, kettles and pans. I haven't had any new kitchen utensils since -our tenth wedding anniversary, and Maggie and I were at our wits' end -with leaky vessels."</p> - -<p>"You broke the contract!" said Theodore, pointing an accusing finger. -"Kitchen utensils cannot be classed as a personal whim."</p> - -<p>"Indeed they can! You will think so when you see them!" returned his -mother laughingly. "They are of every shape, size and description. At -first I thought of buying you all pretty silver pins, and having the -date inscribed as a memento of a day of experiences. But thinking you -might not consider that fair, I took the pans."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">-284-</a></span></p> - -<p>"Last but not least," announced Theodore oratorically, "Beatrice will -tell us the experiences that befell a beautiful damsel in search of a -personal whim."</p> - -<p>Beatrice coloured slightly, but did not raise her eyes from her -hemstitching.</p> - -<p>"There is very little to tell, and it is very foolish. I've fancied a -pair of satin slippers in Frothingham's show window for a long time. -Such gay little things, with the dearest heels,—so I went and bought -them."</p> - -<p>"Oh," said Miss Billy disappointedly, "is that all? Didn't you meet -with any experiences quite unlike other days,—see new people, and -get other views? Didn't anything new come into your life?"</p> - -<p>Beatrice bent her head lower over her work. "No," she answered, -"nothing new."</p> - - - - -<hr /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">-285-</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"><span class="gesperrt">CHAPTER XX</span></a><br /> -<br /> -<span class="sm">FAIR SKIES</span></h2> - -<div class="center bp"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -“Cæsar himself could never say<br /> -He got two victories in one day.”<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<div><img style="margin-top: .3em" class="decocap" src="images/deco-d.jpg" width="55" height="55" alt="D" title="D" /></div> -<p class="decocap">DO you know, Ted," said Miss Billy, as they took their way to school -together one morning in late September, "this air makes me feel like -cutting civilisation entirely and taking to the wide prairies, where -I can stick feathers in my hair, ride a bare-backed pony, and never -hear another dreary platitude of Pope or Dryden's nor bother my -head about the difference between the hieroglyphic and the hierotic -characters on the Egyptian obelisks."</p> - -<p>"Well, I wouldn't be surprised at anything you might do," said -Theodore, "and I know it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">-286-</a></span> would be done exhaustively. But what's the -matter with school? I thought you liked it."</p> - -<p>"Oh, it's not school, altogether. It's everything. It's -life,—civilised life,—with all its little petty trials and -meannesses. Now here is Miss Peabody's school that we have to -pass,—the hall of the select and the home of the cultured,—an Eden -from which I have been driven, to judge from the manner of some -of the girls when I go by. Of course, I could go round the other -way, but I just won't! I march past with my head up and my colours -flying,—they give me the iciest bows,—I return them a mere sweep of -my eyelashes,—and the thing is over for the day. But it rankles and -hurts, and makes me miserable in spite of myself."</p> - -<p>"I have been enduring that sort of thing for two months," said -Theodore. "I am becoming cheerfully resigned to it. Whenever I meet -those girls in a crowd together, they have an interesting letter to -bend their heads over, or something of that kind, and at the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">-287-</a></span> very -last moment one or two will look up and give me a half-frightened -bow, and I raise my hat with dignity to Miss Peabody's cupola, or -some other equally lofty object, and walk on. Of course, I understand -Myrtle Blanchard is at the bottom of it all. She's paying back an old -score."</p> - -<p>Miss Peabody's Select Seminary for Young Ladies, which they were -approaching, was a handsome building in grey stone, with an imposing -iron fence, and a square of well-kept lawn strewn with garden seats, -on which "the select" were even now gathered. Miss Myrtle Blanchard -was there, and as she saw Miss Billy and Theodore coming, she rose, -in company with two other of the most popular girls, and advanced to -the gate.</p> - -<p>"You don't suppose they are meaning to speak to us," gasped Miss -Billy in amazement. "Why, those three girls have been the ringleaders -of the whole thing!"</p> - -<p>Evidently the young ladies did mean to speak to them. They advanced -with out<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">-288-</a></span>stretched hands, and Miss Myrtle hooked on to Miss Billy's -arm, while the other two engaged Theodore.</p> - -<p>"Why in the world don't you ever come to see me," said Miss Myrtle, -with an expostulatory little shake. "But there,—I know the reason. -You are so carried away with Cherry Street that you haven't a thought -for old friends! Oh, I know all about it, Miss Billy.—You needn't -deny it! I've heard all about your Improvement Club, and the social -you gave, and everything. Maude and Blanche wrote in their last -London letter that slumming was more fashionable than ever, there."</p> - -<p>"Yes?" said Miss Billy, looking meaningly at Theodore,—but Miss -Myrtle was not to be so lightly shaken off.</p> - -<p>"Margaret Van Courtland tells me she is a member of your Club,—and -that elegant young college man, Mr. Lindsay, too, that the girls are -raving over. Why didn't you let me know about it this summer? I've -been just aching to help somebody. I want you to put<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">-289-</a></span> my name down -right away for membership. Maude and Blanche will want to join when -they come, I know. They'll love to belong to anything Margaret Van -Courtland is connected with. They just adore her,—and they'll enjoy -slumming."</p> - -<p>"It isn't slumming," said Miss Billy, with repressed indignation. -"It's just a little neighbourhood affair, and we are all on perfectly -equal terms."</p> - -<p>"Call it what you will, only let me belong! Remember now,—you've -promised!" And with a final squeeze to the imprisoned arm, and a -brilliant smile for Theodore, Miss Myrtle and her companions happily -retraced their steps to the sacred confines of the Seminary.</p> - -<p>"Hold me up till my shattered nerves are restored," murmured -Theodore. "They almost ate me up!"</p> - -<p>"Miss Myrtle has an axe to grind, but she shall not grind it on my -grindstone," said Miss Billy resolutely. "She has a misty idea that -I've become fashionable and quite the thing,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">-290-</a></span> and that she's not in -it. She called our Improvement work 'slumming,' and wants to join our -club. Imagine her condescending to Mr. Hennesy, or Marie Jean, or Mr. -Schultzsky, or in short, any of them! And yet, Theodore, I'm such a -miserably weak character, I couldn't help being glad I had on my real -lace collar when she was talking to me."</p> - -<p>"Well," said Theodore, "the tables have at last turned,—and -strangely enough, through our friends in Cherry Street. You wakened, -as it were, to find yourself famous, Miss Billy."</p> - -<p>"Nonsense!" said Miss Billy. "I gave her distinctly to understand -that every member of the Improvement Club was a friend of mine,—but -of course she is too shallow to understand it. Still, our relations -with many of the girls will be less strained now, because of her -friendliness, and that is something to be thankful for."</p> - -<p>The Blanchard trap stood at the door of the High School that -afternoon, when school was dismissed. Miss Myrtle herself, in a -natty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">-291-</a></span> green coat with a scarlet collar, and a red Tam o' Shanter, -sat high on the box with the reins in her hands.</p> - -<p>"I have come for you both, to drive," she smiled. "This is our new -trap. Don't you admire the red paint and the shining wheels? I know, -now we have it, I shall bore you with attentions, but I don't expect -to take 'no' for an answer."</p> - -<p>"Ted," murmured Miss Billy, "I shall have to feed you to the lions. -Providentially, here is Margaret with her cart to take me."</p> - -<p>"I refuse to be fed," said Theodore firmly. "I've got to go up town -and order some things for mother. Get into the trap yourself,—and -I'll go with Margaret."</p> - -<p>So Miss Billy was obliged to climb into the seat beside Miss Myrtle, -while Theodore, winding his long legs into the cart, took the reins -from Margaret's hand and with a sharp click to Patsy was off without -a backward glance.</p> - -<p>Margaret laughed. "Ted, you grow more like Billy every day. You -have the same way<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">-292-</a></span> of waving the American flag, and reading the -Declaration of Independence, and having your rights. Now, don't go on -disliking Myrtle. For one thing, it's too much trouble. If you think -of her at all, think of her kindly, and, with a little practice, life -will be a summer sea."</p> - -<p>"No, sir!" said Theodore, flecking a fly off Patsy's back with the -whip. "When people stand on my corns, I propose to let them know it. -I found out who my friends were when I drove Mr. Hennesy's mules. It -was perfectly honourable work, you know, but not elegant. A fellow's -better off without fine-feather friends. He has the courage, then, to -be what he is,—and stands a better chance of amounting to something."</p> - -<p>"Well, I dare say you are right," said Margaret, "and if you are -not,—it would be impossible to make either you or Billy over, so -what's the use of arguing? Here is Brown's drug store. Will you step -out and give them this bottle, Ted? It will take some time to put up<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">-293-</a></span> -the prescription, so tell them they may deliver it."</p> - -<p>Theodore's face changed. He was on the point of saying, "I don't -go to Brown's,"—but he would a little rather Margaret should not -know that story. After all, why should he not go? It certainly would -not improve Mr. Brown's opinion of his character if he avoided the -place. He gave the reins into Margaret's hand, took the bottle and -disappeared into the store.</p> - -<p>There were two or three customers being waited upon,—the clerks were -in their usual places,—Mr. Brown was at the desk. He took the bottle -to the prescription clerk. "When it is ready, send it up to Mr. Van -Courtland's," he said, and was turning away when Mr. Brown called him.</p> - -<p>"I have a letter here for you," he said, fumbling among the papers on -his desk, "that I had just written and was about to send. Yes,—this -is it,—merely asking you to call at the store." He opened the money -drawer, took<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">-294-</a></span> out five dollars, and shoved it toward Theodore. "Mrs. -Thorpe found that bill a few days after you were there. It had -slipped under the lining of her purse. She has been away all summer, -so she only had an opportunity of returning it to me a day or two -ago."</p> - -<p>Mr. Brown was returning to his books, and Theodore took the bill -with heightened colour. "I hope, sir," he said, "that this entirely -establishes my honesty in your mind?"</p> - -<p>"I never doubted it," said Mr. Brown. "You took the affair a little -too hard. Remember, you discharged yourself. If you should want your -job back again next Spring, I'll try to let you have it. I don't -think you will ever lose another bill."</p> - -<p>"Thank you, sir," said Theodore, and passed out. He sprang into the -cart beside Margaret, and gave the astonished Patsy a vigourous slap -with the lines.</p> - -<p>"Why, what's the matter?" said Margaret. "Your eyes are as shiny, and -your cheeks as red——"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">-295-</a></span></p> - -<p>"I don't mind telling you the story now," said Theodore. "I went into -that store wearing convict's stripes, figuratively speaking, and I've -come out without 'em. My character is cleared, but I've a notion it -will take some time for my shaved hair and my self-respect to grow -again."</p> - - - - -<hr /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">-296-</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"><span class="gesperrt">CHAPTER XXI</span></a><br /> -<br /> -<span class="sm">HALLOWE’EN</span></h2> - -<div class="center bp"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -“Never since the world began<br /> -<span class="i1">Has been such repartee;</span><br /> -And never till the next begins<br /> -Will greater things be done by man<br /> -<span class="i1">Than this same company.”</span><br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<div><img style="margin-top: .3em; padding-right: 3px;" class="decocap" src="images/deco-i.jpg" width="55" height="55" alt="I" title="I" /></div> -<p class="decocap">I ’M going to have a party to-night," announced Theodore, coming into -the study on a morning in late October. Mrs. Lee and the two girls -looked up from their work in astonishment. "To-night!" they said in -chorus.</p> - -<p>"I think it's about my turn to 'entertain,'" went on Ted in a mock -aggrieved tone. "Father opened the house to the Guild last week, -mother had the Mothers' Meeting here<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">-297-</a></span> yesterday, Beatrice has company -all the time, and I'm still picking peanut shells, left from Miss -Billy's Lawn Fête, out of the grass. Don't you think that I deserve a -'function' to-night?"</p> - -<p>"It seems to me that your arrangements are being made rather late in -the day," laughed Mrs. Lee. "One usually plans for a party a day or -two beforehand."</p> - -<p>"Not for this kind of an entertainment," explained Theodore. "This is -a sudden inspiration of mine—planned 'on the spur of the instant,' -as Mrs. Canary would say. If you'll let me use the gasoline range -to-night, that's all I'll ask. I'm going to give a pancake party."</p> - -<p>"What's a pancake party?" inquired Miss Billy.</p> - -<p>"Hist!" returned Theodore mysteriously. "'Tell it not in Gath, -publish it not in the streets of Ascalon,' is my motto. The ghosts -and the witches walk abroad to-night, and we shall fitly celebrate. -So much you shall know<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">-298-</a></span> and no more. Miss Billy, if you offer to -make me a rarebit in your chafing dish to-night, I shall courteously -accept; and mother, a bottle of stuffed olives, three bunches of -radishes and a fruit cake would be delicate attentions on your part."</p> - -<p>"Whom are you going to invite?" asked Beatrice.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Margaret, of course, and Lindsay, and our friend John Thomas, -and I suppose Mary Jane."</p> - -<p>"But that won't make enough men to go around."</p> - -<p>"Oh, you and Mary Jane can divide Mr. Lindsay," said Ted carelessly. -"He's big enough to make two."</p> - -<p>Beatrice left the room, and Ted went to his father's desk, where he -laboured painfully over the following poetical effusion:</p> - -<p>"Theodore Lee would like to see you at his home on Friday. Please -come at eight, and do not wait to make yourself too tidy. For spells -and tricks are apt to fix your clothes in sad con<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">-299-</a></span>dition; and folks, -I ween, on Hallowe'en are not on exhibition."</p> - -<hr class="med" /> - -<p>Beatrice, coming downstairs at eight o'clock that evening, to assist -in receiving the guests, found Miss Billy seated on the hearth rug, -while Ted bedecked her hair with an artistic arrangement of feathers -pulled out of the duster.</p> - -<p>The elder sister looked disturbed. "Goodness!" she said. "Don't let -Ted do that. I hope you're not intending to wear those things."</p> - -<p>"Why not?" said Miss Billy carelessly. "The feather duster's -moulting, anyway."</p> - -<p>"It isn't the duster I'm thinking of. It's you. Why <i>will</i> you be so -ridiculous before visitors?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, pshaw," exclaimed Miss Billy impatiently. "I'm doing it for fun. -The 'visitors' are only girls and boys."</p> - -<p>"Mr. Lindsay is twenty-four," replied Beatrice with dignity, "and I -am not a child."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">-300-</a></span></p> - -<p>"Oh, ho!" jeered Ted, "you're both Methusalehs! Lindsay's got more -sense than most people of his age. He's more like sixteen than -twenty-four."</p> - -<p>Miss Billy had already removed the towering plumes.</p> - -<div class="center"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -"I love my darling sister so<br /> -That I would much for her forego,"<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p>she chanted. "There goes the door bell. Ted, you're the footman?"</p> - -<p>"By all the powers above!" exclaimed Ted, as he swung open the door -in mock ceremony. "Mr. Francis Lindsay, in a full suit of evening -clothes! Such splendour! I'm glad now I blacked my shoes. Miss Billy, -don't you wish you'd braved Bea's jeers and worn your ostrich tips?"</p> - -<div class="center"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -"To the horror of all who were present that day<br /> -<span class="i1">He uprose in full evening dress,</span><br /> -And with senseless grimaces endeavoured to say<br /> -<span class="i1">What his tongue could no longer express,"</span><br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p>quoted Francis. "Am I or am I not to come<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">-301-</a></span> in? Good-evening, Miss -Billy, good-evening, Miss Lee."</p> - -<p>Beatrice looked critically at the tall figure bending over her -sister's hand. In his evening clothes Mr. Schultzsky's grand-nephew -was a fine looking man, she owned to herself, and her voice was -unusually cordial as she added her greeting to Miss Billy's.</p> - -<p>At the stroke of eight Margaret appeared, and John Thomas soon -followed, in a high state of collar and excitement. "Mary Jane wasn't -ready to come with me," he announced cheerfully. "She was prinking -before the glass when I went by her room, and she said she couldn't -fix her hair. She'll be along."</p> - -<p>His prediction was verified by a faint jingle of the door bell. A -moment later Marie Jean's shrill voice was heard in the hall. "Oh, -thank you, Mr. Theodore, don't mention it, please. I'm <i>so</i> sorry to -have kept you waiting. Where shall I lay my cloak?" The little group, -gathered round the first fall fire, fell apart to permit the entrance -of the last guest.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">-302-</a></span></p> - -<p>It was Marie Jean, but transformed. She wore the trailing silk skirt, -and a bodice of showy pink taffeta, but the heavy frizzes were gone. -Her hair was parted as smoothly and evenly as Margaret's own, and -the German braids lent new character to her face. She glanced in -some surprise at Beatrice's simple grey-blue gown, and surveyed -Miss Billy's scarlet waist with disapproval. The plain elegance of -Margaret's tailor suit utterly escaped her, but her eyes brightened -as she beheld Francis' pearl studs. "He's got a genuine swallow -tail," she said to herself. "I'm glad I dressed up."</p> - -<p>"Come into the kitchen," announced the host, leading the way to the -rear of the house. "This is the scene of our operations. Lindsay, -how we are to manage such elegance as yours and Miss Marie Jean's, -I don't see. You'll have to be aproned, each one of you." He handed -Marie Jean and Margaret long gingham aprons, and then to the -amusement of all proceeded to array Francis' six foot length in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">-303-</a></span> one -of Bea's daintiest and most be-ruffled pinafores.</p> - -<p>"The gasoline stove is for the fudge, which you, John Thomas, will -find already mixed, in the pantry," continued Ted. "The range is -ready for the pancakes, which you, Francis, are to bake during your -leisure moments this evening. In the meantime, we will try what fate -has in store for us."</p> - -<p>There was a little thrill of expectation as Miss Billy and Theodore -appeared, bearing a tub partly full of water, with a number of -rosy cheeked apples floating on the surface. "Dive for your fate," -commanded Ted. "The red apples are for the girls, the yellow ones -for the boys. Your intended's name you'll find within." There was -a dashing and splashing after the little buoys of fate, and even -Beatrice and Marie Jean lost their dignity as the apples slipped time -after time from the inviting crunch of their teeth. Margaret secured -the first—a big red apple labelled "The Count," John Thomas drew -"Miss Billy," and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">-304-</a></span> Ted made a wry face as he read "Myrtle Blanchard" -on the yellow Baldwin that floated in his clutch.</p> - -<p>"Let's try the next test before we go to cooking," said Miss Billy, -producing a tray which held seven miniature ships. Each was made of -the half of an English walnut shell, and held an inch of wax taper in -its tiny hold.</p> - -<p>"Choose your colour," directed the hostess, "and launch your ship -on the sea of life. If the light burns steadily till the wax is all -melted, and the boat rides the waves safely, you are assured a long -and happy life. If two boats come together and continue to sail about -side by side their owners will pass much of their life together. Two -boats in collision means a quarrel. A boat that touches frequently at -the sides of the tub predicts many short voyages for the owner, but a -bold vessel that goes to the other side promises a life of adventure -and travel. All aboard!"</p> - -<p>One by one the small crafts were launched on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">-305-</a></span> the sea, and the owners -hung over the tub awaiting the result with eagerness.</p> - -<p>Margaret's capsized early in the course. Francis' and Marie Jean's -crept along side by side, Theodore's and John Thomas' collided, -and Miss Billy's travelled independently and speedily across the -tub despite the sly efforts of Ted to turn its course. There was -much teasing and laughing before the boats dropped their anchors. -Theodore, who carried the tub to the kitchen, returned with a small -iron vessel, a long-handled spoon, and a cup of water.</p> - -<p>"This is the truest test of fate," he announced. "The melted lead -dropped into the water will foretell every man's destiny with -neatness and despatch. Strike, while the iron—and lead—is hot. Your -turn first, 'oh rare pale Margaret.'"</p> - -<p>The group left the fudge to the mercy of the fire and surrounded -Theodore. The lead dropped into the cup of water, and Ted peeped -cautiously into the bottom. "The fates speak<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">-306-</a></span> truly," he announced -solemnly. "It's a cabbage—thrown at your first concert, I suppose. -Miss Marie Jean, the next spoonful is for you. Here it is, but I'll -be switched if I know <i>what</i> it is."</p> - -<p>John Thomas peered over his shoulder. "It's a hand glass," he -announced.</p> - -<p>"So it is," assented Ted. "I suppose you'll be a professional beauty -like Mme. de Staël or Maxine Elliott. You may take the lead for a -memento. Beatrice, step up to the front. Hail, all hail, you have -won—a man,—a nice big fellow with a football."</p> - -<p>"That must be you, Francis," said John Thomas, looking up at the tall -athlete at his side.</p> - -<p>Beatrice looked annoyed, and Francis' usually calm face reddened -suddenly. Miss Billy's quick wits detected confusion in the air, and -she stepped forward hastily. "Now me," she said.</p> - -<p>Theodore dropped a spoonful of lead in the water, and it sank with a -heavy thump.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">-307-</a></span></p> - -<p>"The man with a hoe! Or perhaps it's Mr. Schultzsky with his crutch -instead," announced Ted. "This is for you, John Thomas—a nice round -dollar. That means that one of these days you'll have money instead -of lead to put in the fire.... Now Mr. Lindsay, leave your griddle -and behold."</p> - -<p>"A lead maiden!" said Margaret, as the metal hardened into a graceful -shape in the bottom of the cup. "A bride, I declare! See her bouquet."</p> - -<p>"Last but not least," announced Ted cheerfully, "is the fate of Mr. -Theodore Somers Lee, one of the most charming and delightful members -of our little circle. He deserves the best that the gods can provide. -What have we here? A book! I bet it's a Bible. I have always had -a secret longing for the life of a missionary. There's a cry from -Macedonia, and I shall turn out immediately."</p> - -<p>"It's more likely to be a bed than a Bible," announced Miss Billy -witheringly. "Then you'll turn in, not out."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">-308-</a></span></p> - -<p>"Why is a boy pigeon-toed at night?" improvised Theodore. "Because he -turns in."</p> - -<p>There was a chorus of groans in reply. "That is the way we roast -chestnuts on Hallowe'en," said Francis wickedly.</p> - -<p>"Isn't it time to put on the pancakes?" said John Thomas. "The fudge -is almost done."</p> - -<p>"That's my work," said Francis. "Miss Billy, did you say there was a -ring in the batter? What is it for?"</p> - -<p>Miss Billy had brought out a bag of chestnuts, and was placing them -in a long row on the top of the stove.</p> - -<p>"The one who gets the ring is to be married first," she said. "But -we'll try the chestnut charm before the cakes are ready,—if you can -stand the smoke."</p> - -<p>"What is the test?" asked Margaret.</p> - -<p>"Name the two nuts," explained Ted, "one for yourself and one for -'your steady.' If they roast quietly and gently your affair will be -long and tranquil; if they burst or fly apart, there will be troubles -in the family."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">-309-</a></span></p> - -<p>The circle of young people gathered closer, and watched the little -emblems of friendship. The fire crackled and burned brighter, and a -silence fell upon the room. One by one the chestnuts popped and flew -off, until only the two named by Miss Billy were left. They burned -quietly side by side until Francis pushed them, fully roasted, into -the owner's lap.</p> - -<p>"You are the happy one," he said. "For whom were they named?"</p> - -<p>"I shall never tell," declared Miss Billy.</p> - -<p>Four great stacks of smoking cakes were carried into the dining room, -where Miss Billy's chafing dish was already burning. Mrs. Lee had -evidently lent her assistance, for added to Theodore's menu was a -large plate of sandwiches and a pitcher of hot chocolate.</p> - -<p>The hungry people gathered around the table; and the brown pancakes, -covered with butter and smothered in maple syrup, received much -commendation. While they were at the table the doorbell rang. Mrs. -Lee, who had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">-310-</a></span> answered the bell, came into the dining room with a -large basket in her hand, and a puzzled expression on her face.</p> - -<p>"There was no one at the door," she said. "Only this basket. It has -your name on it, Wilhelmina."</p> - -<p>Miss Billy lifted the cover and peered in. "What on earth!" she -began. She lifted out a curious little package labelled "Miss -Margaret Van Courtland." "This is evidently for you," she said as -she peered in again. "But there are a whole lot of others. One for -each of us." She distributed the parcels to the party, while Margaret -dubiously opened the square bundle that had been handed to her.</p> - -<p>A small pasteboard box labelled "Burke's Peerage" was exposed to -view. The following poem accompanied it:</p> - -<div class="center"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -"A maiden named Peggy Van C——<br /> -Sailed far from New York State and me!<br /> -And she played the pianner,<br /> -And won prize and banner,<br /> -In ev'ry conservato-ree.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">-311-</a></span><br /> -<br /> -"But my honest American name<br /> -She spurned to my sorrow and shame,<br /> -For she said 'I shan't marry<br /> -With Tom, Dick and Harry,<br /> -I'm looking for much higher game.<br /> -<br /> -"'With my excellent banking account<br /> -To royalty's height I may mount.'<br /> -She ran into her fate,<br /> -But discovered too late<br /> -He was called in Burke's book—no (a) count."<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p>"Congratulations, Ted," said Margaret. "I recognise your dainty touch -in this."</p> - -<p>Ted looked innocent.</p> - -<div class="center"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -"Why should all blame and anger dread<br /> -Fall straight upon my luckless head?"<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p>he murmured. "John Thomas, I see you drew a prize. What is it?"</p> - -<p>John Thomas had been examining his parcel, and his face was very red. -He held up two scarlet hearts impaled on a long tin arrow.</p> - -<p>"I don't want to read the po'try," he said bashfully.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">-312-</a></span></p> - -<p>"Oh, yes," begged Miss Billy. "Go on, John Thomas. What do <i>you</i> -care? It's all in fun."</p> - -<p>The boy unfolded the paper obediently.</p> - -<div class="center"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -"He lives next door to Billy Lee,<br /> -He smiles at her incessantly,<br /> -His name they say is Hennes-sy,<br /> -<span class="i5">And John.</span><br /> -<br /> -"He little knows her temper bad,<br /> -He's never seen her when she's mad.<br /> -Misguided youth! His lot is sad,——<br /> -<span class="i5">Poor John."</span><br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p>"Nonsense," said Miss Billy. "Your sentiments are as bad as your -poetry, Ted. What's yours, Bea?"</p> - -<p>Beatrice had a pair of huge scarlet carpet slippers, ornamented with -a large bow of ribbon. Theodore read the verses:</p> - -<div class="center"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -"A pair of red slippers hung high in a shop,<br /> -<span class="i1">Sing hey for the slippers so red!</span><br /> -And a maid passed that way and I saw the maid stop,<br /> -<span class="i1">'I'll buy me the slippers,' she said.</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">-313-</a></span><br /> -<br /> -"The pair of red slippers came down from the shelf,<br /> -<span class="i1">Sing hey for the slippers so small!</span><br /> -And the maiden remarked, undertone, to herself,<br /> -<span class="i1">'They'll look awful swell at a ball.'</span><br /> -<br /> -"The pair of red slippers were jaunty and low,<br /> -<span class="i1">Sing hey for the slippers so gay!</span><br /> -'But I don't want buckles, I wanted a bow,'<br /> -<span class="i1">I heard the maid woefully say.</span><br /> -<br /> -"The pair of red slippers were wrapped up and tied,<br /> -<span class="i1">Sing hey for the pocketbook low!</span><br /> -And a youth who was near sauntered home at her side,<br /> -<span class="i1">So the maid got the slippers and beau."</span><br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p>Marie Jean unwrapped her package with an expectant expression. A -large beet, cut in half, and carefully stuck together with toothpicks -surrounded the following verse:</p> - -<div class="center"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -"There's a secret in my heart, Sweet Marie,<br /> -A tale I would impart, love, to thee.<br /> -Every lad in Cherry Street<br /> -Kneels in ardour at thy feet,<br /> -You've a face that can't be beet, Sweet Marie."<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p>"I never heard such wretched puns," declared Margaret. "There's one -consolation,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">-314-</a></span>—there <i>can't</i> be anything worse than that. What's -yours, Mr. Francis?"</p> - -<p>Francis bowed gallantly to Miss Billy. "Ladies first," he said.</p> - -<p>A small green watering pot was unrolled from a newspaper, and several -verses tumbled out.</p> - -<div class="center"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -"Mistress Billy,<br /> -Pray don't be chilly!<br /> -How does your garden grow?<br /> -With beautiful posies<br /> -And lilies and roses,<br /> -And sunflowers all in a row.<br /> -<br /> -"Mistress Billy<br /> -I must rhyme—willy nilly,—<br /> -How does your garden grow?<br /> -With small smiling faces<br /> -All found in their places<br /> -And little ones all in a row.<br /> -<br /> -"Mistress Billy,<br /> -Don't think me silly<br /> -Thus does your garden grow,<br /> -With hard work and duty<br /> -And sweetness and beauty,<br /> -And faith, hope, and love in a row."<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">-315-</a></span></p> - -<p>Miss Billy's voice shook a little as she finished reading, and there -was something suspiciously shiny in her eyes as she glanced at her -brother. But Ted was looking serenely the other way.</p> - -<p>Francis' package held a fat pocketbook labelled:</p> - -<div class="center"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -"Sing a song of sixpence.<br /> -Pocketful of mon.,<br /> -Rent day Francis has it all,<br /> -Cherry Street has none.<br /> -Never mind! His praises loud<br /> -Cherry Street doth sing—<br /> -Francis may not be a count,<br /> -But he is a king."<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p>"Goodness!" said the reader, "I don't know whether I dare eat another -cake after that. I'm already bursting with <i>pride</i>; Miss Billy, -won't you share this with me?" He held out the last pancake on the -plate invitingly. Miss Billy's knife divided it evenly and a slender -circlet tinkled out on the dish.</p> - -<p>"The ring!" said Marie Jean. "You'll have to draw lots."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">-316-</a></span></p> - -<p>"Or else share your fate," suggested Margaret.</p> - -<p>"Now me," said Ted in a tone of mock anticipation. "You haven't seen -my souvenir yet." He unrolled a box of French bonbons, and passed it -around the table, as he read:</p> - -<div class="center"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -"There was a young person named Ted.<br /> -'I'll write some fine doggerel,' he said.<br /> -But his verse read aloud<br /> -In the midst of the crowd<br /> -Was all pronounced mongrel instead."<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p>"And that's the truest one of all," said Margaret.</p> - - - - -<hr /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">-317-</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"><span class="gesperrt">CHAPTER XXII</span></a><br /> -<br /> -<span class="sm">WAITING</span></h2> - -<div class="center bp"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -“The strange white solitude of peace<br /> -<span class="i1">That settles over all.”</span><br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<div><img style="margin-top: .3em; padding-right: 5px;" class="decocap" src="images/deco-i.jpg" width="55" height="55" alt="I" title="I" /></div> -<p class="decocap">IF it was anybody else but Miss Billy," sighed Mrs. Canary.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Hennesy pulled her shawl down over her swollen eyes, and made no -reply.</p> - -<p>"I've just been in there, an' her fever's higher. She just raved an' -tossed all night," went on Mrs. Canary.</p> - -<p>"I was on me way there, now," said Mrs. Hennesy,—"but I guess I'll -not go in, afther hearing how she is. Folks around a sick house is -only a clutter."</p> - -<p>"I know it,—but I can't hardly keep away. Seems as if I <i>must</i> do -something fer that poor lamb, after all the times she's helped me, -takin' care of the childurn an' all. She's just worked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">-318-</a></span> herself to -death tryin' to keep Cherry Street clean, an' all this summer, that's -what she has,—an' no pertic'lar thanks fer it, neither."</p> - -<p>"I guess it's not all work that's done it," said Mrs. Hennesy -significantly. "It's that ould ciss-pool between us and the Lee's -that's been p'isoning her. The wondher is we're not all dead. And -afther all the times we've spoke about it to old man Schultzsky, too. -Well, I hope he'll mate his reward in the nixt wurld, if he don't in -this."</p> - -<p>"Do you know, they say he feels awful bad about it. Just walks 'round -like a hen on a hot griddle. Don't ask fer no news of her, but -just can't settle down easy anywhere. I should think he <i>would</i> be -<i>prosterated</i> with grief! An' he wouldn't be the only one! Everybody -on the street feels the same way. Her sickness has just cast a -shadder over everything. I never seen the beat of it."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Hennesy's broad Irish face grew almost beautiful in its -tenderness. "I feel like she was wan av me own," she said softly. -"No<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">-319-</a></span> wan, not even the dear child herself, knows what she has done -for us! John Thomas hasn't spoke a word about the house for a wake. -Miss Billy has done wondhers for that bye. If you could see him -workin' over his lessons, an' tidyin' up the yard, an' trainin' up -the few bits of vines he's planted! An' Mary Jane, she didn't like -her at first, but sure her heart is broke now. As for Mr. Hennesy and -mesilf,—well, there's no way to tell how we feel about it."</p> - -<p>"I guess we're all mournin' together," said Mrs. Canary. "Mr. Canary -wouldn't tech fish fer dinner,—Holly Belle is all stuffed up with -tears, an' Friddie hangs round their door till I just expect Mis' -Lee'll throw water on him to git red of him. The children are all -a-prayin' for her ev'ry night, an' if God kin resest their innercent -pleadin' it's more'n I could do."</p> - -<p>"It's Cherry Street that's nadin' her more than Hivin does," said -Mrs. Hennesy.</p> - -<p>"I guess it does!" exclaimed Mrs. Canary fervently. "We can't do -without her. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">-320-</a></span> children just fairly adore her image, the big boys -and girls all love her, and the fathers and mothers need her the most -of all. If she'd never done a thing fer us but to show that pretty -smile of hers, an' let us see her eyes shine, an' hear her sweet -voice, we'd miss her enough: but rememberin' all she <i>has</i> done——" -Words failed the good woman, and her sentence ended abruptly.</p> - -<p>"I suppose there's not a thing a person could do to help," said Mrs. -Hennesy.</p> - -<p>"Not a thing. The house is full of flowers, and things to eat. -They've got a nurse that looks like striped stick candy, an' two -doctors, an' more offers of help than they know what to do with. -There ain't a thing <i>we</i> can do but watch—an' pray. An' if the Lord -sees fit to call her Home——"</p> - -<p>But Mrs. Hennesy, drawing the shawl again over her eyes, turned away.</p> - -<hr class="med" /> - -<p>The mist of Indian summer lay like a veil over Cherry Street. Out -in the garden Miss<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">-321-</a></span> Billy's flowers were still blooming. The vines -were breaking into crisp little tendrils about her window, the La -France rose bush was heavy with buds, and the grass was as green and -tender as when her feet had last pressed it. Miss Billy's friend, -the bulldog, slept serenely on the Lee porch, and her canary trilled -softly in the autumn sunshine.</p> - -<p>Life seemed to have vanished from the street itself. Down near the -Levi house two wooden saw-horses and a plank had been placed across -the road to block all traffic, and Policeman Canary paced back and -forth to ward off intruders. Grocery boys and butcher lads came and -went on foot, and the children who played in the back yards were -hushed and subdued by watchful parents "for Miss Billy's sake." -Silence reigned everywhere, and the chirping of the twittering -sparrows, that <i>could</i> not be hushed, was the only sound that broke -the stillness.</p> - -<p>Upstairs, in the little green room, where the only movement was -the stirring of the thin<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">-322-</a></span> curtains in the soft wind, lay the girl -herself. The active feet were quiet, the busy hands were folded and -the dancing eyes were closed. There was nothing about the passive -figure that was like Miss Billy. Even the mass of copper-brown hair -had been cut away. But this death-like stupor was less terrifying -than the intervals of raging fever in which Miss Billy laughed, sang -and talked, and lived over and over again her girlish trials and -hopes and fears.</p> - -<p>"It's such hard work," she would say, tossing restlessly from side -to side in the little bed. "Such hard work! Mr. Schultzsky, it's a -lie, I tell you. He didn't hit your horse, I saw it all! It's a lie, -I tell you. I didn't mean to hurt you! It's my fault, though, not -Ted's!... Oh, Ted, you didn't need to step on my grass seed. Why -won't you let things grow? It's so hot, so hot, here. Beatrice, you -needn't be so mean! He's a friend of mine. Why won't you be kind to -him? Please do, please do. He's helped me so."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">-323-</a></span></p> - -<p>Then the busy brain would go back to the old life:</p> - -<p>"Myrtle Blanchard called us poor. I don't want to be poor. I hate it. -I hate Cherry Street! I hate heat! I'm <i>so</i> tired!"</p> - -<p>It was when the fever was at its height that the family first guessed -the depth of Miss Billy's feeling, for in her delirium she talked -wildly of wanting to go back "home," away from Cherry Street, to -where everything was "quiet and clean." She longed for Margaret's -home-coming, and begged piteously that the Blanchards might not "come -in." And then the wild look would disappear, and she would drop back -on the pillow with the same old pathetic cry: "I'm so tired. <i>So</i> -tired."</p> - -<p>So day after day passed. Delirium, restlessness, pain and weakness -filled Miss Billy's waking hours, and the only peace came when -she sank into a deep stupor, which was almost as fearful to the -watchers. The work of the Improvement Club had been abandoned. Ted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">-324-</a></span> -applied himself industriously to school, and Beatrice found her only -comfort in doing housework that gave her no time to think, and left -her so physically tired at night that sleep came, after all. Mrs. -Van Courtland almost lived at the house, and Margaret, Francis and -John Thomas came daily, to hear the reports and bring comfort and -help. The members of the Child Garden hung about the gate, begging -for news, Mrs. Hennesy waylaid the doctor each morning, and Mrs. -Levi sent Moses to the door with a new dainty every day. The life -on Cherry Street seemed to centre about the one small room in the -old-fashioned house, and the whole street waited and hoped while the -autumn sped, and Miss Billy grew no better.</p> - -<p>It was after one of the worst days that Beatrice crept out of the -room, with her heart full, and her eyes overflowing with tears. She -felt her way blindly downstairs, and almost bumped into Francis, who -was standing in the dark hall.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">-325-</a></span></p> - -<p>"I didn't ring," he said. "How <i>is</i> the little girl?"</p> - -<p>Beatrice sat down on the stairs, and grasped the railing tightly as -though its dumb wood could offer her some help and support.</p> - -<p>"Worse," she said.</p> - -<p>Francis' face looked his sympathy.</p> - -<p>"<i>How</i> is she worse?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"She's been raving for two hours. Dr. Lane has sent for Dr. Howitt. -Her temperature has never been so high."</p> - -<p>"Is she in great—danger?"</p> - -<p>Beatrice nodded. "They don't say so, but——" Her voice failed her.</p> - -<p>"Is there anything I can do?"</p> - -<p>"Not a thing. The nurse is there, and mother and father don't leave -her for an instant. She doesn't even need me. If there was anything -to be done,—but to sit and wait is so awful!—I'm going down now to -make a cup of tea for mother. She looks like a ghost."</p> - -<p>"And so do you, poor little girl." He laid his strong brown hand over -the small white one on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">-326-</a></span> the railing. Beatrice sat still for a moment, -and then, laying her head on her arm, cried her heart out.</p> - -<p>"I can't give her up," she sobbed wildly. "I can't! I can't! I never -knew before what she was to me. And all this summer when she has been -toiling away over her children and the weeds and the street, I have -sat and criticised, and discouraged her. I have been so selfish, so -small and so mean! Oh, I don't deserve to have Miss Billy, but if she -lives, I'll love God all my life. I can't spare her now."</p> - -<p>Francis laid his hand softly upon the bowed golden head, and waited -until the paroxysm of sobs had passed.</p> - -<p>"I can't tell you how sorry I am," he said gently. "I love Miss -Billy, too, you know. But there is nothing for us to do but wait -and—hope. I shan't give up yet. Come down with me and let me make -you the tea. You need it as much as your mother."</p> - -<p>The night came down softly on Cherry Street. The shadows deepened and -the silver<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">-327-</a></span> crescent of the new moon appeared in the sky. Dr. Howitt -arrived and went immediately to the sick room. The nurse passed -through the hall with a glass of wine. Supper was announced, and was -cleared away untasted. Beatrice and Theodore sat silently in the -study. At nine o'clock the nurse came down the stairs again.</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Lee says for you both to go to bed. She will call you if -there's the slightest change. If you can get any sleep, so much the -better. And Mr. Theodore, there's a boy out in the yard."</p> - -<p>Beatrice obediently followed the nurse upstairs, and Ted went quietly -out of the door. A dark figure could be dimly seen striding up and -down in the faint light cast from Miss Billy's room. Theodore rounded -the porch, and stopped the shadowy form in its march. It was John -Thomas.</p> - -<p>"How is she?" he whispered.</p> - -<p>Ted shook his head despairingly, without a word.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">-328-</a></span></p> - -<p>"You'd better go to bed," said John Thomas.</p> - -<p>"So had you," returned Ted.</p> - -<p>"I can't sleep," exclaimed the figure.</p> - -<p>Ted turned stiffly. "Neither can I," he said. His feet seemed to -tangle in the wet grass as he walked toward the house again.</p> - -<p>"So long," said John Thomas hoarsely.</p> - -<p>"So long," returned Theodore.</p> - -<p>A restless sleep had just fallen on Theodore when there was a light -rap on the door. "Come," said the nurse. "There is a change. Your -mother has sent for you. As quiet as possible, please." The boy flung -on his bath robe, and hurried into the hall. Beatrice had just come -out from her room. The sister and brother clasped hands and went on -together.</p> - -<p>In Miss Billy's room the light had been turned very low. Dr. Howitt -had gone. The family doctor stood near the window. Mr. Lee sat by the -bedside with a look upon his worn face that the children had never -seen. His wife was on her knees, with one of the pale<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">-329-</a></span> hands clasped -in her own, as though the mother's grasp would hold the child in -spite of Death. A soft grey shadow seemed to have fallen over Miss -Billy's face, and she lay in deep stupor.</p> - -<p>The little group gathered around the bed, and waited. The minutes -slowly passed, Miss Billy's small clock ticking them off with an -intensity that was almost painful.</p> - -<hr class="med" /> - -<p>The grey light began to grow in the eastern window, and a soft breeze -blew in from the lake. The glimmer of the lamp paled as the room grew -lighter. Afar off a dog barked, and one of Mr. Hennesy's roosters -heralded the coming of the new day. The first glow of red light had -appeared in the sky, when Miss Billy moved slightly in the bed.</p> - -<p>"Mother," she whispered. Then she opened her eyes wide, with a hint -of the old-time smile. "Has the morning come?" she asked. "I've had -bad dreams."</p> - - - - -<hr /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">-330-</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"><span class="gesperrt">CHAPTER XXIII</span></a><br /> -<br /> -<span class="sm">CONCLUSION</span></h2> - -<div class="center bp"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -“Against the whiteness of the wall<br /> -Be living verdure seen,—<br /> -Sweet summer memories to recall,<br /> -And keep your Christmas green.”<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<div><img style="margin-top: .3em" class="decocap" src="images/deco-a.jpg" width="56" height="56" alt="A" title="A" /></div> -<p class="decocap">ALL through the long hot summer months Miss Billy had been doing what -she could for Cherry Street. Now Cherry Street was doing what it -could for Miss Billy.</p> - -<p>"Grass, is it, she'd be afther loikin' to see, whin she gits up?" -said Mr. Hennesy. "Sure an' we're ploughin' good sod undher iv'ry day -av our lives,—loads av it. John Thomas, see that ye bring home a -wagon load of it 'ach noight, an' O'il be doin' the same."</p> - -<p>John Thomas brought the sod, and the street fell to with a will. Dusk -fell earlier<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">-331-</a></span> than in the summer, but there was still time left after -the day's labour was over and the supper cleared away. The children -dug and raked the hard soil, and the men rolled the velvety sod into -strips of green parking bordering the sidewalks, and spread it into -green lawns in their own dooryards. The enthusiasm spread like a -fever. Aaron Levi's father brought home a can of paint, and began -experimentally to turn his shabby brown house into a white house with -green blinds. The street beheld, and hurried to do likewise, scarcely -waiting for Francis' assurance that every cent of expense should be -taken off the rent. Every house was freshly painted,—and because the -underlying thought was of Miss Billy, and because they thought she -would like it so, they painted uniformly white, with green blinds.</p> - -<p>Besides all this, down the middle of the street a score of men, day -after day, threw up the rocky soil into long mounds, and at last -the sewer pipe that was to connect with every dwelling, was laid, -with all Cherry Street look<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">-332-</a></span>ing into the hole, as if it had been -the dedication of a church. No more cesspools and typhoid fever for -Cherry Street! It had been too near to losing Miss Billy. But Mr. -Schultzsky would have made the concession for none other.</p> - -<p>The Street Improvement Club, cast at first into the depths of despair -at their brave little captain's grave illness, and raised now to -heights of enthusiasm by her convalescence, were everywhere! Chewing -gum wrappers were voted a nuisance: Paper bags were frowned upon: -Banana skins were not to be tolerated: Tomato cans were a crime! -Everywhere over the street presided a new goddess,—the Goddess of -Cleanliness,—while the girl who had wrought the change lay in the -little green room, being slowly nursed back to life.</p> - -<p>It was after the Improvement Club, under the advice of Francis, had -taken the proceeds of the lawn social from the little tin box, and -invested it in young shade trees, that proudly skirted the sidewalks -twenty feet apart, that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">-333-</a></span> Francis snapped his final picture from the -head of the street. After it was developed he compared it to that -other taken on the August morning. The results appeared to satisfy -him. "They are an object lesson," he said, "fit to point a moral or -adorn a tale," and he mailed them in a big official looking envelope -to "Peter Hanson, Florist,—New York,—Prize Street Competition."</p> - -<p>It was this very day, too, that Miss Billy was placed in an easy -chair, and taken to the window for the first time since her illness. -"Oh, it's such a green world, motherie mine; such a beautiful, sunny, -green world, that it hurts my eyes. And—why—but everything wasn't -all green like that when I went to bed. What can have happened!"</p> - -<p>"That is enough for to-day," said the nurse authoritatively, and -Miss Billy was put back to bed. But she had caught a glimpse of -Mr. Schultzsky's house, and it was painted white!—Of the little -Bohemian maid swinging placidly to and fro in the rocking chair on -an immacu<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">-334-</a></span>late little white porch!—Of a stretch of restful green -grass, where before had been weeds!—and right in the middle of the -front yard had bloomed a huge tub of scarlet geraniums! ("She will -like to see that," Francis had said,—and through the long beautiful -fall which stretched into December, he had placed a covering over the -flowers every night to protect them from possible frosts.) Miss Billy -had seen, and two hectic spots of excitement burned on her cheeks.</p> - -<p>"Cherry Street is remodelled, inside and out," said Mrs. Lee gently. -"Francis has made Mr. Schultzsky see the expense of it in the -light of a sound business proposition, and the rest of it has been -done by the people themselves, for love of you. But there, little -daughter,—it's nothing to cry about!"</p> - -<p>"I'm not crying," said Miss Billy valiantly, the big tears chasing -each other down her cheeks. "Don't you see that I'm laughing, and -happy, and thankful? Oh, it is so nice to come back to this dear, -beautiful world!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">-335-</a></span></p> - -<p>There were informal receptions held in the little green room as she -grew daily stronger. Marie Jean, still with the trailing dresses, but -with the heavy frizzes forever gone,—John Thomas, freckled of face -and worshipful, alert to Miss Billy's slightest wish,—Mr. Hennesy, -brimful of cheer and whimsical philosophy,—Mrs. Hennesy, overflowing -with kindness and neighbourly apologies,—Mr. Schultzsky, stoical, -yet changed,—Holly Belle, who whispered with shy blushes that beside -her finger exercises Miss Margaret had given her a "piece," with -variations: and every day Margaret and Francis, and the members of -the Improvement Club, who sat about and gazed at Miss Billy restored -to them and were thankful.</p> - -<p>It was the eighteenth of December when the first snow came sifting -down. It covered the green lawns, and wrapped the young shade trees, -and whitened the roofs of the little white houses. And not till then -did Cherry Street remember that summer was gone and Christmas was -near.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">-336-</a></span></p> - -<p>"We'll have a Christmas tree big enough for everybody," said -Theodore. "John Thomas and I will go out and buy the largest we can -find, and set it up in the parlour."</p> - -<p>"Oh, it will be fine," said Margaret, clapping her hands. "Let us get -at it right away."</p> - -<p>The Christmas tree was brought, a noble fir,—and set up in the -corner of the parlour amidst much bustle and confusion and laughter. -John Thomas popped the corn, Miss Billy threaded it in whitened -strings, Francis tacked up the evergreen boughs and holly, while -Beatrice assisted,—a pretty picture with the heavy foliage held high -above her head, and her sleeves falling away from her white arms. -Margaret, in the kitchen, was aiding Maggie in making the cherished -Christmas "<span lang="de">pfeffernes</span>," and as the little German cakes baked, the -sweet spicy smell filled the air.</p> - -<p>Theodore, on a stepladder, was hanging the mistletoe. "It smells -Christmassy already," he announced hungrily. "Why doesn't Margaret -make a bushel of those things? I could<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">-337-</a></span> eat all she has there at one -bite. Marie Jean, just hand me up a bit of that red ribbon, will you?"</p> - -<p>Marie Jean's long arm stretched up the ladder, and Theodore leaned -down. There was a resounding smack, and Marie Jean, with a scream of -agitation, tripped over a rug and fell headlong into the arms of the -Christmas tree.</p> - -<p>"Land o' love!" she ejaculated, extricating herself from the -branches. "Theodore Lee, I've a mind to slap you."</p> - -<div class="center"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -"The mistletoe hung in the castle hall,<br /> -The holly branch shone on the old oak wall,"<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p>recited Theodore, putting as much feeling as he could into it without -swallowing the tacks in his mouth. "Marie Jean, I expect to slay my -thousands under this thing. But if you'd like to slap me, you can -come again and try it."</p> - -<p>"No, thanks," said Marie Jean, settling her ruffled plumage with -dignity.</p> - -<p>"Now," went on the irrepressible Theodore, "if good Kris Kringle -will only hang a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">-338-</a></span> wig on the Christmas tree for Miss Billy,—nothing -expensive or rich, of course, like her own hair was—but——"</p> - -<p>Involuntarily Miss Billy's hands flew up to her shorn locks, but John -Thomas came sturdily to the defence.</p> - -<p>"Miss Billy's a heap prettier with her hair short like that, and -curling all over her head in little rings. She wasn't half so pretty -when it was long."</p> - -<p>"John Thomas," said Theodore, with a pitying stare, "it's my opinion -that you would think Miss Billy handsome if she was as bald as a -Chinese mandarin. It's a prominent symptom of the disease."</p> - -<p>John Thomas returned abruptly to his popcorn, and Miss Billy, in the -absence of anything better, and with a flash of the old time fire in -her eyes, threw a handful of popcorn at the tormentor.</p> - -<p>"Perhaps you would like to sample these cakes," said Margaret, -standing floury and smiling in the doorway, with a plate in her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">-339-</a></span> -hand. "Francis, it is less than six months ago that you and I sat in -the mud of a side street in Cologne, while a rain of these lovely -little cakes fell about our devoted heads. I little thought I should -be making some for you at Christmas time."</p> - -<p>"We cannot foretell the future," said Theodore solemnly. "Next -Christmas—who knows?—we may all be in 'der faderland,' honourable -attachees of the household of the Count and Countess Lindsay. Miss -Billy can be 'lady in waiting,' and hold up your sky-blue green -pink train, Margaret,—and John Thomas can be Buttons at the front -door——"</p> - -<p>"The last five months have certainly been an unexpected and pleasant -experience for me," interrupted Francis. "But play time is over. I -shall be off for New York Saturday."</p> - -<p>"To stay—forever?" appealed Miss Billy piteously. "Oh, Francis,—I -can't spare you."</p> - -<p>There were tears in her eyes, and he took the small white hand -between his own brown palms.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">-340-</a></span></p> - -<p>"Not forever, Miss Billy," he said gently. "I hope to come back -again,—many times; and some of the goodness, and brightness, and -helpfulness of Cherry Street shall always be with me, wherever I am."</p> - -<p>"And I," said Margaret, with a little sigh, "shall return to Cologne -next month; I, too, shall miss Cherry Street, but nothing shall -sadden me now that Billy is well."</p> - -<p>"I have a lump in my throat as I dwell upon the inevitableness of -human destiny," said Theodore. "But honestly, Lindsay, we shall miss -you. As for you, Margaret,</p> - -<div class="center"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -"Maid of <i>Col</i>-ogne, ere we part,<br /> -<span class="i1">Give, O give me back my heart."</span><br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p>"You gave it to Marie Jean the night of the lawn social," rejoined -Margaret promptly. "I didn't want it, you know,—it was so warm and -sticky."</p> - -<p>"And I didn't know what to do with it, so I ate it," said Marie Jean, -with a giggle. "I remember it was flavoured with peppermint."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">-341-</a></span></p> - -<p>"Cannibal!" murmured Theodore,—and lapsed into injured silence.</p> - -<p>Beatrice and Francis had returned to the holly wreaths. "We shall be -sorry to have you go," she said, her eyes on the branches in her lap. -"What you said about Cherry Street made me want to cry. I, certainly, -in the past, have not been a part of the goodness and brightness -and helpfulness. Before you go, let me tell you I am sorry for -everything."</p> - -<p>"And I am glad." He took from her lap as he spoke a bit of the holly -and broke it in two. "Keep this," he said, "and I shall keep the -other half, 'sweet summer memories to recall,'—till I come again."</p> - -<p>Christmas eve fell softly upon Cherry Street wrapped in its snowy -mantle, with a pale silver moon like a crescent of promise, shining -low down in the west.</p> - -<p>"When I saw it last," said Holly Belle, "it was over my left -shoulder, and I thought Miss Billy was goin' to die."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">-342-</a></span></p> - -<p>"An' I heard the death tick in the wall," said Mrs. Canary, "an' -dreampt of white horses three nights hand runnin'. I never knew the -signs to fail before."</p> - -<p>"Signs can't hurt Miss Billy," said Holly Belle with conviction, as -she hastened the little Canarys into their holiday attire. "She don't -believe in 'em—nor dream books, nor nothin'. An' I ain't a-goin' to -after this, neither."</p> - -<p>"Holly Belle," said Mrs. Canary impressively, "the night yer -grandfather died I was a sittin' there by the window——"</p> - -<p>"I don't care," broke in Holly Belle stoutly: ("Fridoline, hold up -yer chin! How can I fasten yer necktie when yer leanin' it down like -that!)—I don't care fer all the old signs in the world. Miss Billy -don't believe in 'em, an' I ain't a-goin' to, neither."</p> - -<p>In the Hennesy home, Mr. Hennesy had brought out the ancient coat, -and was struggling into one of John Thomas's collars. It was fastened -at last, and Mr. Hennesy regarded his appearance in the glass with -in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">-343-</a></span>terest. "All Oi do be nadin'," he commented, "is a check rein -from the top av me head to me shoulder blades, to make me be lookin' -loike a four-year-old colt. John Thomas, wan av these days whin ye go -to bite off a bit av tough mate, ye'll hit on wan av these aidges an' -cut yer jugglery vein. Moind now, what O'im sayin'."</p> - -<p class="illo border"> -<img src="images/p343.jpg" width="500" height="734" alt="illustration" title="illustration" /> -</p> - -<p class="caption">“All Oi do be nadin’” ... “is a check rein from the -top<br /> -av me head to me shoulder blades.”</p> - -<p>At Number 12 Cherry Street there was warmth and light and glow. -Out in the kitchen the smiling Maggie presided over two boilers of -coffee and a table full of iced cakes and confections. As the guests -began to arrive the folding doors between the minister's study and -the parlour were thrown open, and the Christmas tree, glowing with -coloured balls and wax tapers, stood revealed. The Street Improvement -Club, to a man, greeted the glittering spectacle with delight, -but the ecstasy of some of the younger members became suddenly -extinguished in their mothers' skirts at the sudden appearance of an -exceedingly corpulent Saint Nicholas in the parlour door.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">-344-</a></span></p> - -<p>"Ladies and Gentlemen,—Members of the Street Improvement Club and -Fellow Citizens:" began the jolly Saint, keeping his whiskers applied -with one hand, and gesticulating gracefully with the other;—"Owing -to a stringency in the money market, this tree is mostly made up -of tarlatan bags containing nuts, candy and popcorn, with verses -of excellent poetry thrown in. You will observe that the greater -share of the gifts seem to be for the children, and for young ladies -between the ages of sixteen and twenty,—but there are a few trinkets -for all, and plenty of good will beside."</p> - -<p>Here the good Saint paused, and was obliged to hold on his whiskers -with both hands, and he viewed the facial contortions of Ikey Levi, -who wanted to cry and was afraid the Saint might not like it.</p> - -<p>"I find here, attached to one of the most prominent branches," went -on Saint Nicholas, "a charming female savage in a short skirt and -a feather head-dress. It is marked 'for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">-345-</a></span> Marie Jean Hennesy, from -Theodore L—.' It also bears this inscription:</p> - -<div class="center"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -"This tender maid of dusky shade,<br /> -Eats lovers' hearts,—beware!<br /> -She'll take them raw, like cabbage slaw,<br /> -Or overdone or rare.<br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p>"Will Miss Hennesy step up to receive her gift? I regret that Mr. -Theodore cannot be with us this evening to receive his thanks in -person.</p> - -<p>"Here also, is a beautiful toy omnibus, from the same benevolent -source, with a pair of spirited horses attached, and a handsome -driver atop. It is marked 'Miss Billy,' and the following tender -verse accompanies it:</p> - -<div class="center"> -<div class="poem"> -<p class="msm"> -"A maiden once reasoned her thus—<br /> -<span class="i1">'I think I shall hire a whole bus:'</span><br /> -She rode on the top, and the people did stop<br /> -<span class="i1">And declared that it couldn't be wuss!</span><br /> -</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p>"I regret that I do not find a snuff box on the boughs for Herr -Lindsay. In its absence I shall beg him to accept the trifling gift -of this tin trumpet, that he may be able to blow<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">-346-</a></span> his own horn when -he is far away, and Cherry Street can no longer blow it for him. Is -Mr. Lindsay present?"</p> - -<p>The gifts were being rapidly distributed, and the jolly Saint's -charming speeches could no longer be heard above the happy talk and -laughter. Holly Belle hugged a leather music roll and a copy of "Five -Little Peppers" to her breast, Ikey Levi played the long roll on a -red drum, Pius Coffey made his toilet before the wee-est of pocket -mirrors, with the wee-est of pocket combs, and Beatrice held a single -long-stemmed American Beauty rose in her hand, when Saint Nicholas -rapped loudly for order.</p> - -<p>"I find here, on the very topmost bough," he announced, "a blue -envelope addressed to Miss Wilhelmina Lee, President of Cherry Street -Improvement Club. Open it and read it aloud, Miss Billy."</p> - -<p>Miss Billy cut the sealed edge, and a slip of blue paper fluttered -to the floor. Then with surprise, delight, excitement and wavering -dis<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">-347-</a></span>trust in her tones, she read aloud the following letter:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">New York</span>, <i>December 22, 19—</i>.</p> - -<p> -"<span class="smcap">Miss Wilhelmina Lee</span>,<br /> -<span class="i1">"<i>President Improvement Club,</i></span><br /> -<span class="i2">"<i>Cherry Street, J—— City.</i></span><br /> -</p> - -<p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Madam</span>:—</p> - -<p>"We herewith enclose you our check for one hundred dollars, -as agreed by us in our prize offer of August last. The -pictures you sent easily won the prize for marked street -improvement, although there were many competitors. Wishing -you all success in your work,</p> - -<p><span class="i4">"We are</span></p> - -<p class="center">"Very respectfully,</p> - -<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Peter Hanson & Co.</span>,<br /> -"Florists, New York."<br /> -</p> -</div> - -<p>"Is it a joke?" said Miss Billy, looking at Saint Nicholas as if she -didn't know whether to laugh or cry.</p> - -<p>But the good Saint, holding his whiskers in his hand in the -excitement of the moment, had stooped to the floor for the bit of -blue paper, and was examining it closely in the glow of the tree.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">-348-</a></span></p> - -<p>"It's genuine, all right," he answered. "It's Peter Hanson's check -for one hundred dollars on the First National Bank of New York."</p> - -<p>"It came this afternoon," said Francis smilingly,—"and knowing what -it might be, I received it and put it on the tree for you. I took the -last snap shot and sent it away while you were ill, Miss Billy."</p> - -<p>A prolonged, mighty, deafening cheer went up from the assembled -throats of the Improvement Club,—a glorified cheer,—a cheer of -triumph, pride, and growing strength, with cat-calls innumerable -tacked on to the end. The astonished Maggie, entering the door with a -tray piled high with plates and napkins, was brushed lightly aside by -Mr. Hennesy.</p> - -<p>"Clare the middle av the room," he shouted in stentorian tones: "I'm -a-goin' to cut a pigeon wing."</p> - -<p>"Three cheers for Miss Billy," proposed Francis.</p> - -<p>"And now a tiger for Francis," returned<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">-349-</a></span> Miss Billy, and the hubbub, -but just ended, rose again.</p> - -<p>"An' another fer the frinds av the Club," said Mr. Hennesy, shaking -hands right and left with everybody.</p> - -<p>Saint Nicholas, with his whiskers readjusted, rapped once more for -order. "Let me suggest, my friends," he said, "that we give one last -lusty cheer for Cherry Street. One, two, three—<i>Now</i>!"</p> - - -<p class="center tp">THE END</p> - - - - -<hr /> - -<div class="bbox2"> -<p class="center xlg">Dorothy South</p> - -<p class="center lg">A Love Story of Virginia Before the War</p> - -<p class="center"> -By GEORGE CARY EGGLESTON<br /> -Author of "A Carolina Cavalier"<br /> -</p> - -<p class="center bp" style="border-bottom: solid;">Illustrated by C.D. Williams. 12mo, dark red cloth,<br /> -portrait cover, rough edges, gilt top, $1.50</p> - -<p class="blockquot"><span class="dropcap">T</span>HIS distinguished author gives us a most fascinating picture of -Virginia's golden age, her fair sons and daughters, beautiful, -picturesque homes, and the luxurious, bountiful life of the -old-school gentleman. Dorothy South has been described in these -characteristic words by Frank R. Stockton: "Learned, lovely; musical, -lovely; loving, lovely; so goes Dorothy through the book, and sad -would be the fate of poor Arthur Brent, and all of us, if she could -be stolen out of it." This is a typically pretty story, clear and -sweet and pure as the Southern sky.</p> - -<p class="center mlg tp" style="border-top: solid;">Lothrop Publishing Company—Boston</p> -</div> - - - - -<hr /> - -<div class="bbox2"> -<p class="center xlg">A Carolina Cavalier</p> - -<p class="center lg">A Romance of the Carolinas</p> - -<p class="center">By GEORGE CARY EGGLESTON</p> - -<p class="center bp" style="border-bottom: solid;">Bound in red silk cloth, Illustrated cover, gilt top, rough edges.<br /> -Six drawings by C.D. Williams. Size, 5 × 7¾. Price $1.50</p> - -<p class="blockquot"><span class="dropcap">A</span> strong, delightful romance of Revolutionary days, most -characteristic of its vigorous author, George Cary Eggleston. The -story is founded on absolute happenings and certain old papers of -the historic Rutledges of Carolina. As a love story, it is sweet -and true; and as a patriotic novel it is grand and inspiring. -The historic setting, and the fact that it is distinctively and -enthusiastically American, have combined to win instant success for -the book.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="hang"><b>Louisville Courier Journal</b>: "A fine story of -adventure, teeming with life and aglow with color."</p> - -<p class="hang"><b>Cleveland World</b>: "There is action, plot, and fire. -Love and valor and loyalty play a part that enhances one's -respect for human nature."</p> - -<p class="hang"><b>Baltimore Sun</b>: "The story is full of movement. It is -replete with adventure. It is saturated with love."</p> -</div> - -<p class="center mlg tp" style="border-top: solid;">Lothrop Publishing Company—Boston</p> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="bbox2"> -<p class="center xlg">The Master of Warlock</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="hang">By GEORGE CARY EGGLESTON, Author of "Dorothy South," "A -Carolina Cavalier." Six Illustrations by C.D. Williams. -12mo. Dark red cloth, illustrated cover, gilt top, rough -edges. Price, $1.50 each.</p> -</div> - -<p style="border-bottom: solid;"> </p> - -<p class="blockquot tp"><span class="dropcap">“T</span>HE MASTER OF WARLOCK” has an interesting plot, and is full of -purity of sentiment, charm of atmosphere, and stirring doings. One -of the typical family feuds of Virginia separates the lovers at -first; but, when the hero goes to the war, the heroine undergoes many -hardships and adventures to serve him, and they are happily united in -the end.</p> - -<p style="border-bottom: double; border-width: 5px;"> </p> - -<p class="center xlg">Dorothy South</p> - -<p class="center lg">A STORY OF VIRGINIA JUST BEFORE THE WAR</p> - -<p style="border-bottom: solid;"> </p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p><b>Baltimore Sun</b> says:</p> - -<p>"No writer in the score and more of novelists now exploiting the -Southern field can, for a moment, compare in truth and interest -to Mr. Eggleston. In the novel before us we have a peculiarly -interesting picture of the Virginian in the late fifties. We are -taken into the life of the people. We are shown the hearts of men -and women. Characters are dearly drawn, and incidents are skilfully -presented."</p> -</div> - -<p style="border-bottom: double; border-width: 5px;"> </p> - -<p class="center xlg">A Carolina Cavalier</p> - -<p class="center lg">A STIRRING TALE OF WAR AND ADVENTURE</p> - -<p style="border-bottom: solid;"> </p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p><b>Philadelphia Home Advocate</b> says:</p> - -<p>"As a love story, 'A Carolina Cavalier' is sweet and true; but as a -patriotic novel, it is grand and inspiring. We have seldom found a -stronger and simpler appeal to our manhood and love of country."</p> -</div> - -<p class="center mlg tp" style="border-top: solid;">Lothrop Publishing Company—Boston</p> -</div> - - - - -<hr /> - -<div class="bbox2"> -<p class="center mlg">WHAT THE CRITICS SAY OF</p> - -<p class="center xlg"><i>The</i> <b>SPENDERS</b></p> - -<p style="border-bottom: solid;"> </p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="hang">By HARRY LEON WILSON, Author of "The Lions of the -Lord." Red silk cloth, rough edges, picture cover. Six -illustrations by Rose Cecil O'Neill. Size, 5¼ by 7¾. -Postpaid, $1.50. 55th Thousand.</p> -</div> - -<p style="border-bottom: solid;"> </p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p><b>HARRY THURSTON PECK, in the <i>New York American</i>, says</b>: "The -very best two books written by Americans during the past year have -been 'The Spenders,' by Harry Leon Wilson, and 'The Pit,' by Frank -Norris."</p> - -<p><b>MARK TWAIN writes to the author</b>: "It cost me my day yesterday. -You owe me $400. But never mind, I forgive you for the book's sake."</p> - -<p><b>LOUISVILLE COURIER-JOURNAL says</b>: "If there is such a thing -as the American novel of a new method, this is one. Absolutely to -be enjoyed is it from the first page to the last, founded on the -elemental truth that 'the man is the strongest who, Ancæan-like, -stands with his feet upon the earth.' It is the strong tale of -three generations, and told in the romances of the grandson and -granddaughter of the original rugged pioneer of the Western country, -Peter Bines."</p> - -<p><b>THE BOOKMAN says</b>: "Uncle Peter is a well-drawn, interesting, -picturesque, and, above all, a genuine American product.... The -dénouement is one that would be well worth reading for, even if the -body of the book were dull."</p> - -<p><b>BROOKLYN DAILY EAGLE says</b>: "It is coruscating in wit, daring -in love, and biting in its palpable caricature of many well-known -persons in New York society; but it is so very much more than a -clever society novel making the bid of audacity for ephemeral craze."</p> - -<p><b>CHICAGO RECORD-HERALD says</b>: "Very few novels of the day have -the sterling strength, the force, and the roomy outlook of Harry Leon -Wilson's 'The Spenders.' Every page of it is virile, and, what is -more, it combines true insight into men with a strong humor."</p> - -<p><b>CHRISTIAN HERALD says</b>: "The character drawing throughout the -book is masterly, but Peter Bines deserves a slab in the literary -Hall of Fame."</p> -</div> - -<p class="center mlg tp" style="border-top: solid;">Lothrop Publishing Company—Boston</p> -</div> - - - - -<hr /> - -<div class="bbox2"> -<p class="center xlg">The Lions of the Lord</p> - -<p class="center">By HARRY LEON WILSON</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="hang">Author of "The Spenders." Six illustrations by Rose Cecil -O'Neill, bound in dark green cloth, illustrated cover, -12mo. $1.50, postpaid.</p> - -<p>In his romance of the old West, "The Lions of the Lord," Mr. Wilson, -whose "The Spenders" is one of the successes of the present year, -shows an advance in strength and grasp both in art and life. It is -a thrilling tale of the Mormon settlement of Salt Lake City, with -all its grotesque comedy, grim tragedy, and import to American -civilization. The author's feeling for the Western scenery affords -him an opportunity for many graphic pen pictures, and he is equally -strong in character and in description. For the first time in a novel -is the tragi-comedy of the Mormon development adequately set forth. -Nothing fresher or more vital has been produced by a native novelist.</p> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<p class="center xlg">The Spenders</p> - -<p class="center">By HARRY LEON WILSON</p> - -<p class="center"><b>55th Thousand</b></p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="hang">Author of "The Lions of the Lord." Red silk cloth, rough -edges, picture cover. Six illustrations by Rose Cecil -O'Neill. 12mo. $1.50, postpaid.</p> - -<p><b>Mark Twain writes to the author</b>: "It cost me my day yesterday. -You owe me $400. But never mind, I forgive you for the book's sake."</p> - -<p><b>Louisville Courier-Journal says</b>: "If there is such a thing as -the American novel of a new method, this is one. Absolutely to be -enjoyed is it from the first page to the last."</p> - -<p><b>Harry Thurston Peck, in the New York American, says</b>: "The very -best two books written by Americans during the past year have been -'The Spenders,' by Harry Leon Wilson, and 'The Pit,' by Frank Norris."</p> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<p class="center mlg smcap">Lothrop Publishing Company—Boston</p> -</div> - - - - -<hr /> - -<div class="bbox2"> -<p class="center xlg">Jezebel</p> - -<p class="center lg">A Romance in the Days<br /> -When Ahab Was King</p> - -<p class="center"> -By LAFAYETTE McLAWS<br /> -Author of "When the Land Was Young"<br /> -</p> - -<p class="center">Illustrated by Corwin K. Linson. 12mo, red cloth,<br /> -illustrated cover, rough edges, $1.50</p> - -<p class="blockquot tp"><span class="dropcap">T</span>HE promise in Miss McLaws's first book has been more than realized -in "Jezebel," a work of singular power and insight. It is a Biblical -tale of the days when Elijah was a prophet of Jehovah. When Ahab -comes to the throne, and Jezebel, his wife, sets up the worship of -Baal, the prophets and believers of Israel are incensed against the -queen; and Jezebel begins a fierce persecution of her enemies. This -contest is the chief motive of the story. Miss McLaws presents this -strong-willed, beautiful queen in a novel and striking manner; the -book is replete with dramatic situations, the action is rapid and -stirring, and the dénouement is original and startling.</p> - -<p class="center mlg tp">Lothrop Publishing Company—Boston</p> -</div> - - - - -<hr /> - -<div class="bbox2"> -<p class="center xlg">When the Land was Young</p> - -<p class="center lg">Being the True Romance of Mistress Antoinette<br /> -Huguenin and Captain Jack Middleton</p> - -<p style="border-bottom: solid"> </p> - -<table style="width: 90%" border="0" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="0" summary="ad"> -<tr> -<td style="width: 30%">By LAFAYETTE McLAWS. Bound in green cloth, illustrated cover, gilt -top, rough edges. Six drawings by Will Crawford Size, 5 × 7¾. -Price, $1.50</td> -<td class="center" style="width: 30%"><img src="images/ad.jpg" width="194" height="256" alt="book" title="book" /></td> -<td style="width: 30%"><span class="dropcap">T</span>HE heroine, Antoinette Huguenin, a beauty of King Louis' Court, is -one of the most attractive figures in romance; while Lumulgee, the -great war chief of the Choctaws, and Sir Henry Morgan, the Buccaneer -Knight and terror of the Spanish Main, divide the honors with hero -and heroine. The time was full of border wars between the Spaniards -of Florida and the English colonists, and against this historical -background Miss McLaws has thrown a story that is absorbing, -dramatic, and brilliant.</td> -</tr> -</table> - -<p style="border-bottom: solid"> </p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p><span class="smcap">New York World</span>:</p> - -<p>"Lovely Mistress Antoinette Huguenin! What a girl she is!"</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">New York Journal</span>:</p> - -<p>"A story of thrill and adventure."</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Savannah News</span>:</p> - -<p>"Among the entertaining romances based upon the colonial -days of American history this novel will take rank as one -of the most notable—a dramatic and brilliant story."</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">St. Louis Globe-Democrat</span>:</p> - -<p>"If one is anxious for a thrill, he has only to read a -few pages of 'When the Land was Young' to experience the -desired sensation.... There is action of the most virile -type throughout the romance.... It is vividly told, and -presents a realistic picture of the days 'when the land was -young.'"</p> -</div> - -<p style="border-bottom: solid"> </p> - -<p class="center mlg">Lothrop Publishing Company—Boston</p> -</div> - - - - -<hr /> - -<div class="bbox2"> -<p class="center xlg">The Captain</p> - -<p style="border-bottom: solid"> </p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="hang">By CHURCHILL WILLIAMS, author of "J. Devlin—Boss." -Illustrated by A.I. Keller. 12mo. Dark red cloth, -decorative cover, rough edges. Price, $1.50 each.</p> -</div> - -<p class="blockquot"><span class="dropcap">W</span>HO is the Captain? thousands of readers of this fine book will be -asking. It is a story of love and war, of scenes and characters -before and daring the great civil conflict. It has lots of color and -movement, and the splendid figure naming the book dominates the whole.</p> - -<p style="border-bottom: solid"> </p> - -<p class="center xlg">J. Devlin—Boss</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="hang">A ROMANCE OF AMERICAN POLITICS. Blue cloth, decorative -cover. 12mo. Price, $1.50.</p> -</div> - -<p style="border-bottom: solid"> </p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p><b>Mary E. Wilkins</b> says:</p> - -<p>"I am delighted with your book. Of all the first novels, I believe -yours is the very best. The novel is American to the core. The spirit -of the times is in it. It is inimitably clever. It is an amazing -first novel, and no one except a real novelist could have written it."</p> -</div> - -<p style="border-bottom: solid"> </p> - -<p class="center mlg">Lothrop Publishing Company—Boston</p> -</div> - - - - -<hr /> - -<div class="bbox2"> -<p class="center xlg">Judith’s Garden</p> - -<p class="center">By MARY E. STONE BASSETT</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="hang">With illustrations in color by George Wright. Text printed -in two colors throughout, with special ornamentation. 8vo, -light green silk cloth, rough edges, gilt top, $1.50</p> -</div> - -<p class="blockquot tp"><span class="dropcap">A</span>N exquisite, delicious, charming book, as fresh as new-mown hay, as -fragrant as the odor from the garden of the gods. It is the story -of a garden, a woman, and a man. The woman is delicate and refined, -witty, and interesting; the man is Irish, funny, original, happy,—a -delicious and perfect foil to the woman. His brogue is stunning, and -his wit infectious and fetching. The garden is quite all right. There -is movement in the book; life is abundant, and it attracts. It will -catch the interest of every lover of flowers,—and their name is -legion,—and will delight and comfort every reader.</p> - -<p class="center mlg tp">Lothrop Publishing Company—Boston</p> -</div> - - - - -<hr /> - -<div class="bbox2"> -<p class="center xlg">The Kidnapped<br /> -Millionaires</p> - -<p class="center lg">A Story of Wall Street and Mexico</p> - -<p class="center">By FREDERICK U. ADAMS. 12mo, cloth, $1.50</p> - -<p style="border-bottom: solid"> </p> - -<p class="blockquot"><span class="dropcap">O</span>NE of the most timely and startling stories of the day. A plan to -form a great Newspaper Trust, evolved in the brain of an enterprising -special correspondent, leads to the kidnapping of certain leading -Metropolitan millionaires and marooning them luxuriously on a Mexican -headland; the results—the panic in Wall Street, the search for the -kidnapped millionaires, their discovery and rescue are the chief -motives of the story, which has to do also with trusts, syndicates, -newspaper methods, and all the great monetary problems and financial -methods of the day. The story is full of adventure, full of humor, -and full of action and surprises, while the romance that develops in -its progress is altogether charming and delightful.</p> - -<p style="border-bottom: solid"> </p> - -<p class="center mlg">Lothrop Publishing Company—Boston</p> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="notes"> -<p><i>Transcriber's Note:</i> Obvious printer errors and spelling/punctuation -inconsistencies have been corrected without note. Full-page illustrations have been -moved so as not to interrupt the flow of the text.</p> -</div> - - - - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Miss Billy, by -Edith Keeley Stokely and Marion Kent Hurd - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MISS BILLY *** - -***** This file should be named 60495-h.htm or 60495-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/0/4/9/60495/ - -Produced by Emmy, MFR, Linda Cantoni, and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive). 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