CHAPTER XIII

  Bass met Jennie at the depot in Cleveland and talked hopefully ofthe prospects. "The first thing is to get work," he began, while thejingling sounds and the changing odors which the city thrust upon herwere confusing and almost benumbing her senses. "Get something to do.It doesn't matter what, so long as you get something. If you don't getmore than three or four dollars a week, it will pay the rent. Then,with what George can earn, when he comes, and what Pop sends, we canget along all right. It'll be better than being down in that hole," heconcluded.

  "Yes," said Jennie, vaguely, her mind so hypnotized by the newdisplay of life about her that she could not bring it forcibly to bearupon the topic under discussion. "I know what you mean. I'll getsomething."

  She was much older now, in understanding if not in years. Theordeal through which she had so recently passed had aroused in her aclearer conception of the responsibilities of life. Her mother wasalways in her mind, her mother and the children. In particular Marthaand Veronica must have a better opportunity to do for themselves thanshe had had. They should be dressed better; they ought to be keptlonger in school; they must have more companionship, more opportunityto broaden their lives.

  Cleveland, like every other growing city at this time, was crowdedwith those who were seeking employment. New enterprises wereconstantly springing up, but those who were seeking to fulfil theduties they provided were invariably in excess of the demand. Astranger coming to the city might walk into a small position of almostany kind on the very day he arrived; and he might as readily wander insearch of employment for weeks and even months. Bass suggested theshops and department stores as a first field in which to inquire. Thefactories and other avenues of employment were to be her secondchoice.

  "Don't pass a place, though," he had cautioned her, "if you thinkthere's any chance of getting anything to do. Go right in."

  "What must I say?" asked Jennie, nervously.

  "Tell them you want work. You don't care what you do to beginwith."

  In compliance with this advice, Jennie set out the very first day,and was rewarded by some very chilly experiences. Wherever she went,no one seemed to want any help. She applied at the stores, thefactories, the little shops that lined the outlying thoroughfares, butwas always met by a rebuff. As a last resource she turned tohousework, although she had hoped to avoid that; and, studying thewant columns, she selected four which seemed more promising than theothers. To these she decided to apply. One had already been filledwhen she arrived, but the lady who came to the door was so taken byher appearance that she invited her in and questioned her as to herability.

  "I wish you had come a little earlier," she said. "I like youbetter than I do the girl I have taken. Leave me your address,anyhow."

  Jennie went away, smiling at her reception. She was not quite soyouthful looking as she had been before her recent trouble, but thethinner cheeks and the slightly deeper eyes added to the pensivenessand delicacy of her countenance. She was a model of neatness. Herclothes, all newly cleaned and ironed before leaving home, gave her afresh and inviting appearance. There was growth coming to her in thematter of height, but already in appearance and intelligence shelooked to be a young woman of twenty. Best of all, she was of thatnaturally sunny disposition, which, in spite of toil and privation,kept her always cheerful. Any one in need of a servant-girl or housecompanion would have been delighted to have had her.

  The second place at which she applied was a large residence inEuclid Avenue; it seemed far too imposing for anything she might haveto offer in the way of services, but having come so far she decided tomake the attempt. The servant who met her at the door directed her towait a few moments, and finally ushered her into the boudoir of themistress of the house on the second floor. The latter, a Mrs.Bracebridge, a prepossessing brunette of the conventionallyfashionable type, had a keen eye for feminine values and was impressedrather favorably with Jennie. She talked with her a little while, andfinally decided to try her in the general capacity of maid.

  "I will give you four dollars a week, and you can sleep here if youwish," said Mrs. Bracebridge.

  Jennie explained that she was living with her brother, and wouldsoon have her family with her.

  "Oh, very well," replied her mistress. "Do as you like about that.Only I expect you to be here promptly."

  She wished her to remain for the day and to begin her duties atonce, and Jennie agreed. Mrs. Bracebridge provided her a dainty capand apron, and then spent some little time in instructing her in herduties. Her principal work would be to wait on her mistress, to brushher hair and to help her dress. She was also to answer the bell, waiton the table if need be, and do any other errand which her mistressmight indicate. Mrs. Bracebridge seemed a little hard and formal toher prospective servant, but for all that Jennie admired the dash andgo and the obvious executive capacity of her employer.

  At eight o'clock that evening Jennie was dismissed for the day. Shewondered if she could be of any use in such a household, and marveledthat she had got along as well as she had. Her mistress had set her tocleaning her jewelry and boudoir ornaments as an opening task, andthough she had worked steadily and diligently, she had not finished bythe time she left. She hurried away to her brother's apartment,delighted to be able to report that she had found a situation. Now hermother could come to Cleveland. Now she could have her baby with her.Now they could really begin that new life which was to be so muchbetter and finer and sweeter than anything they had ever hadbefore.

  At Bass's suggestion Jennie wrote her mother to come at once, and aweek or so later a suitable house was found and rented. Mrs. Gerhardt,with the aid of the children, packed up the simple belongings of thefamily, including a single vanload of furniture, and at the end of afortnight they were on their way to the new home.

  Mrs. Gerhardt always had had a keen desire for a really comfortablehome. Solid furniture, upholstered and trimmed, a thick, soft carpetof some warm, pleasing color, plenty of chairs, settees, pictures, alounge, and a piano she had wanted these nice things all her life, buther circumstances had never been good enough for her hopes to berealized. Still she did not despair. Some day, maybe, before she diedthese things would be added to her, and she would be happy. Perhapsher chance was coming now.

  Arrived at Cleveland, this feeling of optimism was encouraged bythe sight of Jennie's cheerful face. Bass assured her that they wouldget along all right. He took them out to the house, and George wasshown the way to go back to the depot and have the freight lookedafter. Mrs. Gerhardt had still fifty dollars left out of the moneywhich Senator Brander had sent to Jennie, and with this a way ofgetting a little extra furniture on the instalment plan was provided.Bass had already paid the first month's rent, and Jennie had spent herevenings for the last few days in washing the windows and floors ofthis new house and in getting it into a state of perfect cleanliness.Now, when the first night fell, they had two new mattresses andcomfortables spread upon a clean floor; a new lamp, purchased from oneof the nearby stores, a single box, borrowed by Jennie from a grocerystore, for cleaning purposes, upon which Mrs. Gerhardt could sit, andsome sausages and bread to stay them until morning. They talked andplanned for the future until nine o'clock came, when all but Jennieand her mother retired. These two talked on, the burden ofresponsibilities resting on the daughter. Mrs. Gerhardt had come tofeel in a way dependent upon her.

  In the course of a week the entire cottage was in order, with ahalf-dozen pieces of new furniture, a new carpet, and some necessarykitchen utensils. The most disturbing thing was the need of a newcooking-stove, the cost of which added greatly to the bill. Theyounger children were entered at the public school, but it was decidedthat George must find some employment. Both Jennie and her mother feltthe injustice of this keenly, but knew no way of preventing thesacrifice.

  "We will let him go to school next year if we can," saidJennie.

  Auspiciously as the new life seemed to have begun, the closenesswith which their expenses were matching their income w
as anever-present menace. Bass, originally very generous in hispropositions, soon announced that he felt four dollars a week for hisroom and board to be a sufficient contribution from himself. Jenniegave everything she earned, and protested that she did not stand inneed of anything, so long as the baby was properly taken care of.George secured a place as an overgrown cash-boy, and brought in twodollars and fifty cents a week, all of which, at first, he gladlycontributed. Later on he was allowed the fifty cents for himself asbeing meet and just. Gerhardt, from his lonely post of labor,contributed five dollars by mail, always arguing that a little moneyought to be saved in order that his honest debts back in Columbusmight be paid. Out of this total income of fifteen dollars a week allof these individuals had to be fed and clothed, the rent paid, coalpurchased, and the regular monthly instalment of three dollars paid onthe outstanding furniture bill of fifty dollars.

  How it was done, those comfortable individuals, who frequentlydiscuss the social aspects of poverty, might well trouble to informthemselves. Rent, coal, and light alone consumed the goodly sum oftwenty dollars a month; food, another unfortunately necessary item,used up twenty-five more; clothes, instalments, dues, occasional itemsof medicine and the like, were met out of the remaining elevendollars--how, the ardent imagination of the comfortable readercan guess. It was done, however, and for a time the hopeful membersconsidered that they were doing fairly well.

  During this period the little family presented a picture ofhonorable and patient toil, which was interesting to contemplate.Every day Mrs. Gerhardt, who worked like a servant and who receivedabsolutely no compensation either in clothes, amusements, or anythingelse, arose in the morning while the others slept, and built the fire.Then she took up the task of getting the breakfast. Often as she movedabout noiselessly in her thin, worn slippers, cushioned with pieces ofnewspaper to make them fit, she looked in on Jennie, Bass, and George,wrapped in their heavy slumbers, and with that divine sympathy whichis born in heaven she wished that they did not need to rise so earlyor to work so hard. Sometimes she would pause before touching herbeloved Jennie, gaze at her white face, so calm in sleep, and lamentthat life had not dealt more kindly with her. Then she would lay herhand gently upon her shoulder and whisper, "Jennie, Jennie," until theweary sleeper would wake.

  When they arose breakfast was always ready. When they returned atnight supper was waiting. Each of the children received a due share ofMrs. Gerhardt's attention. The little baby was closely looked after byher. She protested that she needed neither clothes nor shoes so longas one of the children would run errands for her.

  Jennie, of all the children, fully understood her mother; she alonestrove, with the fullness of a perfect affection, to ease herburden.

  "Ma, you let me do this."

  "Now, ma, I'll 'tend to that."

  "You go sit down, ma."

  These were the every-day expressions of the enduring affection thatexisted between them. Always there was perfect understanding betweenJennie and her mother, and as the days passed this naturally widenedand deepened. Jennie could not bear to think of her as being alwaysconfined to the house. Daily she thought as she worked of that humblehome where her mother was watching and waiting. How she longed to giveher those comforts which she had always craved!

 
Theodore Dreiser's Novels