Nancy and Plum

  Mr. Campbell said, “I like that. Wild Rose is a very pretty name for a cow.”

  Plum said, “Oh, gosh, Mr. Campbell, there’s a car coming. Will it scare the horses?”

  He said, “No, Nellie and Herbert are used to cars but you children had better duck down under the seat just in case it might be Mrs. Monday.”

  Quickly the children got under the seat, Mr. Campbell yanked the old sacks that covered it down as far as he could and pulled the wagon over to the side of the road.

  The car drew up beside them and stopped and Mrs. Monday’s voice called out, “Is that you, Mr. Campbell?”

  Mr. Campbell said, “Sure is, Mrs. Monday.”

  Mrs. Monday said, “Have you seen two little girls walking along the road?”

  Mr. Campbell said, “Have not. What’s the matter, have you lost some?”

  Mrs. Monday said, “Two of my boarders, Nancy and Pamela Remson, both absolutely incorrigible children, have run away and I’m almost frantic with worry.”

  Mr. Campbell said, “I’m sure sorry, Mrs. Monday. Well, I gotta be getting along home.”

  Mrs. Monday said, “If the children should come to your farm and ask for food or shelter, tie them up and call me on the telephone.”

  Mr. Campbell said, “Tie them up?”

  Mrs. Monday said, “Yes, tie them up. They are the kind of children who kick and bite if they can’t have their own way.”

  Mr. Campbell said, “I’ll watch out for them, Mrs. Monday. Good-night.”

  Mrs. Monday and Old Tom drove off in the direction of town and the girls climbed out from under the seat. They were trembling.

  Mr. Campbell said, “Gosh, I didn’t know you two were so dangerous. Do you really bite and kick?”

  Plum said, “Of course we don’t.”

  Nancy said, “If she ever catches us I’ll bet she never gives us anything to eat again.”

  Mr. Campbell said, “Oh, come now. She wouldn’t starve you.”

  Nancy said, “She always takes our food away for punishment.”

  Plum said, “Really having to eat her awful food is the worst punishment, but she was always making us go to bed without any supper. Old Tom says that’s why we’re so little and skinny.”

  Mr. Campbell said, “Well, I’m not trying to punish you and yet here I am keeping you from supper. I’ll bet Mary Ann’s almost wild and I’ll bet she’s got enough food ready to feed every boarder at Mrs. Monday’s.”

  Plum said, “What do you think she might have?”

  Mr. Campbell said, “Well, let’s see, this is Saturday. That means a big stone crock of baked beans, all molassesy and filled with chunks of salt pork. Then there will be brown bread, sliced tomato and cucumber salad, country sausage cakes, apple pie and cheese. Milk and coffee, of course.”

  Nancy said, “Do you suppose she will mind if you bring us home for supper?”

  Mr. Campbell said, “Well, I might as well confess that she sent me after you today. She said, ‘Angus Campbell, if you come home tonight without finding out about those two little girls, I’ll be madder than a wet hen.’ ”

  Plum said, “How far are we from your farm?”

  Mr. Campbell said, “Around the next bend and turn to your left. Did the peanuts hurt your appetite any?”

  Nancy and Plum said, “No!” so loudly that Mr. Campbell laughed.

  Then they went around the bend and turned to the left and there was Mrs. Campbell on the back porch holding a lantern. She said, “Well, my goodness, I thought you were never coming. I’ve had the table set for three solid hours.”

  Mr. Campbell said, “Mary Ann, I brought Nancy and Plum Remson home to supper.”

  Mrs. Campbell said, “Nancy and Plum? Is that what you said?”

  Plum said, “My name’s really Pamela but I called myself Plum when I was little.”

  Mrs. Campbell said, “Well, hop down and come right in. You must be starved. Angus, hurry and put the team away and unload that cow. I’ve already done the milking and fed the chickens.”

  As Nancy and Plum climbed down from the wagon, Mrs. Campbell said, “Where are your shoes and stockings?”

  Plum said, “Our shoes are in the wagon but they have such big holes in them we might as well be barefoot.”

  Mrs. Campbell said, “Well, I’ll put some newspapers down—I just scrubbed my kitchen floor.” She spread a newspaper path between the kitchen door and the big range in the corner of the kitchen and directed Nancy and Plum to stay on these papers. Gingerly on careful tiptoe they walked across the kitchen, which was delightfully cozy and smelled tantalizingly of the baked beans and apple pie.

  Mrs. Campbell told them to sit on the woodbox. Then she got a basin of warm water and vigorously scrubbed their faces, hands and dirty little feet. “Now,” she said as she scrubbed Nancy’s face with a rough, lavender-scented towel, “I can see what you look like. Well, I never was able to make a choice between red and yellow hair, yours are my favorite kind of eyes, you look smart and I am partial to little girls. Now sit up there at the table and let’s start putting a little meat on those bones.”

  Shyly Nancy and Plum sat down at the table while Mrs. Campbell heaped pink-flowered plates with baked beans, sausage cakes and salad, passed a steaming plate of brown bread, cut them off generous pieces of the pat of new butter and handed them big mugs of ice-cold milk.

  While she was serving them, Mr. Campbell came in, washed quickly and sat down. Then Plum and Nancy bowed their heads and said:

  “God is great and God is good,

  And we thank Him for this food.

  By His hand may we be led,

  Give us Lord our daily bread.”

  Mrs. Campbell said, “I learned the same grace when I was a little girl, Plum. Did Mrs. Monday teach you that?”

  Nancy said, “No, our mother taught us that. Almost every child at Mrs. Monday’s says a different grace. She had us take turns.”

  Mrs. Campbell said, “I’m surprised. She came by here today and wanted to know if two little girls had been to the house to ask for food and shelter. I told her no and that was the truth because you hadn’t. I could have told her that I saw two little girls climbing down out of our old haystack this morning but I just didn’t want to. There is something about that woman that riles me.”

  Mr. Campbell said, “As soon as you’re through eating, Nancy and Plum, tell Mrs. Campbell all about Mrs. Monday, Uncle John and Marybelle.”

  And they did. They told her while they were helping her clear the table and wash the dishes. She kept saying, “That woman!” and slapping the dishmop against the plates.

  When all the dishes had been dried and put away, the oilcloth tablecloth had been wiped with a damp cloth, the stove had been whisked off with a turkey feather, the immaculate floor had been swept free of crumbs, the pots of red geraniums on the window sill had been given a drink of water, the old orange cat had been given a saucer of milk behind the stove and the collie dog had been fed, Nancy and Plum said, “Now if you don’t mind, we’ll go down to the haystack.”

  Mrs. Campbell said, “You’ll do no such thing. I’ve got three spare bedrooms in this house and nobody to sleep in them.”

  Nancy and Plum said, “But we haven’t any nightgowns.”

  Mrs. Campbell said, “I’ve already thought of that. You can wear Angus’s nightshirts.”

  Nancy and Plum said, “Are you sure we won’t be any trouble?”

  Mrs. Campbell said, “Trouble? My goodness, when were children any trouble? Now scoot upstairs before you fall asleep right in your tracks.”

  Mrs. Campbell held the lamp and led the way up the stairs, down a hallway carpeted in bright rag runners and into a large square room at the end of the hall. Setting the lamp in a holder by the door, she told the girls to get undressed, opened up a drawer in the high chiffonier and handed them each a blue-and-white-checked flannel nightshirt. When they knelt to say their prayers the nightshirts dragged on the floor and the sleeves hung to their knees but Pl
um said, “They are certainly warmer and softer than hay.”

  The bed, a huge four-poster with a canopy, was so high that they had to use a little ladder to climb into it and when they got in they sank almost out of sight.

  Mrs. Campbell laughed and said, “How do you like my grandmother’s feather bed?”

  Nancy said, “I feel like I’m on a cloud.”

  Plum said, “This is the way I have always imagined beds. All floaty and smelling like lavender.”

  Mrs. Campbell pushed aside the white ruffled curtains, opened the windows wide, then came over to the bed, leaned down and kissed each of them good-night. Nancy and Plum said good-night and their eyes above the patchwork quilt were like stars.

  After Mrs. Campbell had gone with the lamp, Nancy said, “Doesn’t Mrs. Campbell smell good. Like cinnamon and fresh bread.”

  Plum said, “She’s beautiful.”

  Nancy said, “And Mr. Campbell is very handsome.”

  Of course they weren’t at all. Mrs. Campbell was round and cozy with sparkling brown eyes, curly brown hair and rosy cheeks but she wasn’t beautiful. Mr. Campbell was tall and thin with merry blue eyes and stiff sandy hair but he wasn’t handsome. They were good and kind however, and oftentimes goodness and kindness cast a glow over people that passes very well for beauty.

  11

  Back to Mrs. Monday’s

  THE NEXT MORNING, Nancy and Plum were waked up by the orange cat, Penny, lying between them, purring with a noise like a bee on a screen. Plum reached over and scratched her behind the ears, and Penny put out a soft paw and touched Plum’s cheek.

  Then Nancy felt something cold and wet against her arm. She turned over to find Sandy, the collie, his paws on the bed, his nose between his paws, his brown eyes pleading for play. Nancy scratched Sandy behind the ears and said, “I’ll bet it’s awfully late. Oh, what a comfortable bed!”

  Plum said, “I don’t think I’ll ever get up.”

  A voice from the doorway said, “Well, lazybones, are you going to sleep all day? I was counting on a little help with the milking.”

  Plum said, “Oh, Mr. Campbell, I forgot about getting up early to milk. I suppose you’re all through.”

  He said, “I’m all through for this morning, even fed the calves, but you can help me tonight and if you get right up, you can gather the eggs.”

  “Oh, boy,” Plum said, leaping out of bed. In her enthusiasm she forgot about the long nightshirt and the high bed and landed in a heap like a tangled bundle of laundry. Mr. Campbell and Nancy laughed, Sandy barked and Penny looked disgusted.

  Mr. Campbell said, “Mrs. Campbell has waffles and ham all ready for anybody that’s interested,” and went out.

  “Last one dressed is a fleabeetle,” Plum said, yanking on her clothes.

  Carefully Nancy climbed out of bed and began putting on her clothes. She said, “I don’t care if you do beat me this morning, Plum, I feel slow and ladylike.”

  When they were both dressed, had combed and braided their hair, turned back the bed, hung the nightshirts in the closet and closed the bedroom door, they went down to the kitchen.

  Mrs. Campbell was standing at the stove taking sizzling pieces of thick pink ham out of an iron skillet and putting them on a brown earthenware platter. She smiled at them and said, “Good-morning, good-morning. Come and give me a big hug and a kiss.”

  The girls walked to her shyly and she enveloped them in a strong, comforting, waffly smelling hug, gave them each a kiss and said, “The bathroom’s right off that hall in there. Go in and splash a little cold water on your faces and hurry because I have a waffle all ready for you.”

  Plum said, “Everything in this house smells awfully good.”

  Mrs. Campbell said, “When you’re hungry there’s no perfume like the smell of frying ham. Now scat.”

  Nancy said, “As soon as I wash, I’ll set the table for you.”

  Mrs. Campbell said, “Oh, goodness, honey, I’ve had the breakfast table set for an hour.”

  After splashing icy water on their faces and rubbing them fiery red with one of the rough sweet-smelling towels, they came in and took their places at the big kitchen table. This morning the table wore a bright red-and-white-checked cloth and a pot of red geraniums. Mrs. Campbell handed the girls their plates, each with a slice of ham and a half of a crisp tan waffle. Nancy said, “We’ve seen pictures of waffles in magazines but we’ve never tasted them before.”

  Mrs. Campbell said, “Well, bless your hearts. What did that woman give you for breakfast?”

  “Prunes and oatmeal,” Nancy said.

  “Yes,” Plum said, “prunes that were all skin and pits and burnt oatmeal.”

  Mrs. Campbell said, “Mrs. Monday doesn’t have the look of a good cook about her.”

  Plum said, “Katie did the cooking but Mrs. Monday told her what to cook for us boarders. Anyway, she and Marybelle had different food. They had waffles sometimes.”

  Mrs. Campbell said, “Different food?”

  Plum said, “Yep, they sat at a little table all by themselves. Sometimes they had chicken pies. Little bubbly ones with golden crusts.”

  Mrs. Campbell said, “Would you like to have a chicken pie for dinner?”

  Plum said, “Oh, more than anything. I’ve longed for chicken pie so much that sometimes I dream about it, then I wake up in the morning ashamed because I’m so greedy.”

  Mrs. Campbell said, “I don’t think it’s greedy to dream about good food but I certainly think it’s greedy to serve one kind of food to your boarders and eat another, better kind yourself.”

  Nancy said, “Do you know something, Mrs. Campbell, I’ve always wanted to learn to cook. Would you let me watch you make the chicken pie? I mean stand close so I can see everything.”

  Mrs. Campbell said, “What’s better, I’ll let you make it yourself.”

  Nancy said, “Oh, but I wouldn’t know how.”

  “No time like the present to learn,” Mrs. Campbell said, leaning down and kissing the top of Nancy’s head as she put another waffle on her plate.

  Plum said, “Mr. Campbell said that I could gather the eggs.”

  Mrs. Campbell said, “And he meant it, too, but you’d better eat another waffle so you’ll have enough strength to carry the basket. We don’t want any little weak arms dropping all our eggs and breaking them.”

  Plum said, “Even if I wasn’t going to gather the eggs I’d eat another waffle. Next to chicken pie I guess I like waffles best of anything.”

  Mrs. Campbell said, “Who braided your hair so nice and neat?”

  Plum and Nancy said, “We braid each other’s.”

  Nancy said, “Notice how straight we get our parts.” She bent her head so Mrs. Campbell could see. “That’s one of the first things you learn at Mrs. Monday’s. Straight parts and tight, even braids.”

  Plum said, through a mouth full of waffle and maple syrup, “When we first went there and were very little, she used to braid our hair herself and she braided it so tight we couldn’t close our eyes.”

  Nancy said, “She even makes children with curly hair wear pigtails.”

  Mrs. Campbell said, “Well, Marybelle Whistle certainly has a head loaded with corkscrews.”

  Both children giggled at this description and Plum told Mrs. Campbell how she used to call Marybelle Woodenhead with shaving curls.

  Mrs. Campbell said, “I’ve always wondered why Marybelle lives with her aunt. She has parents, hasn’t she?”

  Nancy said, “Oh, yes, she’s got a mother and father but her mother has sick headaches.”

  Plum said, “Probably got them from looking at Marybelle.”

  Mrs. Campbell said, “Well, now we can’t sit around here talking all day. Plum, you go down and gather your eggs and tell Mr. Campbell that we’re going to have chicken pie for dinner and I need a nice fat hen. Also tell him I want some peas and carrots, a head of lettuce and some radishes and onions from the garden.”

  Plum said, “Don’t
you want me to help you with the dishes?”

  Mrs. Campbell said, “My goodness, no, honey, you go help Mr. Campbell and Nancy will help me.”

  Plum jumped up and was just skipping out the door when Mrs. Campbell called her back. “Just a minute, Plum,” she said. “Let me take a look at those shoes.”

  Plum slipped off her shoes and handed them to her and when Mrs. Campbell turned them over and saw the huge holes she said, “Tsk, tsk,” and with the kitchen shears and some heavy cardboard, set about making insoles. When they were finished, Plum slipped them on, said, “Wow! Just like new shoes,” thanked Mrs. Campbell and went racing off to the barn.

  Mrs. Campbell said to Nancy, “Now let me have yours, honey. I fixed Plum’s first because it’s very dangerous to be around the barns in bare feet.”

  Nancy said, “Do new shoes cost very much?”

  Mrs. Campbell said, “Not very much.”

  Nancy said, “Well, when I get a job and earn some money, that’s the first thing I’m going to buy.”

  Mrs. Campbell said, “Speaking of jobs, we’d better get the dishes done or we’ll never get at that chicken pie.”

  It was while Mrs. Campbell and Nancy were upstairs making the beds that Old Tom drove into the yard. He drove the black truck right up by the back porch, got out and knocked on the door. Nancy ran into a closet and hid behind the clothes but Mrs. Campbell said, “Come on, Nancy, hiding won’t do any good at all. Let’s go down and see what he has to say.”

  Old Tom said, “She doesn’t know Nancy and Plum are here, Mrs. Campbell, but I knew because I told them to sleep in your haystack. What I stopped in to tell you is that Mrs. Monday has called their Uncle John and he is on his way out. Shall I have him come up here?”

  Mrs. Campbell said, “By all means. I’d like to talk to him.”

  Nancy put her arms around Mrs. Campbell, buried her head in her apron and said, “No, please don’t. We’ll have to go back to Mrs. Monday’s. Please don’t.”

  Mrs. Campbell patted her head and said, “Don’t worry, honey, I’ll watch out for you.”

  Mr. Campbell and Plum came up from the barn carrying the fat red hen. Mr. Campbell said, “What is it, Tom?”