CHAPTER XXII.
TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE.
AS a matter of fact there wasn't a cake left. Neither doughnut norgingersnap; hardly a crumb to tell the successful tale. Nettie surveyedthe empty shelves the next morning in astonishment. She had been toobusy the night before to realize how fast things were going. Naturallythe number and variety of dishes in the Decker household was limitedand the evening to Nettie was a confused murmur of, "Hand us some morecups." "Can't you raise a few more teaspoons somewhere?" "Give usanother plate," or, "More doughnuts needed;" and Nettie flew hither andthither, washed cups, rinsed spoons, said, "What did I do with thattowel?" or, "Where in the world is the bread knife?" or, "Oh! I smellthe coffee! maybe it is boiling over," and was conscious of nothing butweariness and relief when the last cup of coffee was drank, and thelast teaspoon washed.
But with the next morning's sunshine she knew the opening was asuccess. She counted the gains with eager joy, assuring Jerry that theycould have twice as much gingerbread next time.
"And you'll need it," said Norm. "I had to tell half a dozen boysthat there wasn't a crumb left. I felt sorry for 'em, too; they wereboarding-house fellows who never get anything decent to eat."
Already Norm had apparently forgotten that he was one who usedfrequently to make a similar complaint.
There was a rarely sweet smile on Nettie's face, not born of the chinkin the factory bag which she had made for the money; it grew from thethought that she need not hide the bag now, and tremble lest it shouldbe taken to the saloon to pay for whiskey. What a little time ago itwas that she had feared that! What a changed world it was!
"But there won't be such a crowd again," she said as they were puttingthe room in order, "that was the first night."
"Humph!" said that wise woman Susie with a significant toss of herhead; "last night you said we mustn't expect anybody because it was thefirst night."
Then "the firm" had a hearty laugh at Nettie's expense and set to workpreparing for evening.
I am not going to tell you the story of that summer and fall. It wasbeautiful; as any of the Deckers will tell you with eager eyes andvoluble voice if you call on them, and start the subject.
The business grew and grew, and exceeded their most sanguineexpectations. Mr. Decker interested himself in it most heartily, andbrought often an old acquaintance to get a cup of coffee. "Make itgood and strong," he would say to Nettie in an earnest whisper. "He'sthirsty, and I brought him here instead of going for beer. I wish theroom was larger, and I'd get others to come."
In time, and indeed in a very short space of time, this grew to be thecrying need of the firm: "If we only had more room, and more dishes!"There was a certain long, low building which had once been used as aboarding-house for the factory hands, before that institution grewlarge and moved into new quarters, and which was not now in use. Atthis building Jerry and Nettie, and for that matter, Norm, looked withlonging eyes. They named it "Our Rooms," and hardly ever passed thatthey did not suggest some improvement in it which could be easilymade, and which would make it just the thing for their business. Theyknew just what sort of curtains they would have at the windows, justwhat furnishings in front and back rooms, just how many lamps wouldbe needed. "We will have a hanging lamp over the centre table," saidJerry. "One of those new-fashioned things which shine and give a brightlight, almost like gas; and lots of books and papers for the boys toread."
"But where would we get the books and papers?" would Nettie say, withan anxious business face, as though the room, and the table, and thehanging lamp, were arranged for, and the last-mentioned articles allthat were needed to complete the list.
"Oh! they would gather, little by little. I know some people who woulddonate great piles of them if we had a place to put them. For thatmatter, as it is, father is going to send us some picture-papers, agreat bundle of them; send them by express, and we must have a table toput them on."
So the plans grew, but constantly they looked at the long, low buildingand said what a nice place it would be.
One morning Jerry came across the yard with a grave face. "What do youthink?" he said, the moment he caught sight of Nettie. "They have goneand rented our rooms for a horrid old saloon; whiskey in front, andgambling in the back part! Isn't it a shame that they have got ahead ofus in that kind of way?"
"Oh dear me!" said Nettie, drawing out each word to twice its usuallength, and sitting down on a corner of the woodbox with hands claspedover the dish towel, and for the moment a look on her face as thoughall was lost.
But it was the very same day that Jerry appeared again, his facebeaming. This time it was hard to make Nettie hear, for Mrs. Deckerwas washing, and mingling with the rapid rub-a-dub of the clothes wasthe sizzle of ham in the spider, and the bubble of a kettle which wasbent on boiling over, and making the half-distracted housekeeper allthe trouble it could. Yet his news was too good to keep; and he shoutedabove the din: "I say, Nettie, the man has backed out! Our rooms arenot rented, after all."
"Goody!" said Nettie, and she smiled on the kettle in a way to make itthink she did not care if everything in it boiled over on the floor;whereupon it calmed down, of course, and behaved itself.
So the weeks passed, and the enterprise grew and flourished. I hopeyou remember Mrs. Speckle? Very early in the autumn she sent everyone of her chicks out into the world to toil for themselves and beganbusiness. Each morning a good-sized, yellow-tinted, warm, beautifulegg lay in the nest waiting for Jerry; and when he came, Mrs. Specklecackled the news to him in the most interested way.
"She couldn't do better if she were a regularly constituted member ofthe firm with a share in the profits," said Jerry.
The egg was daily carried to Mrs. Farley's, where there was an invaliddaughter, who had a fancy for that warm, plump egg which came to hereach morning, done up daintily in pink cotton, and laid in a box justlarge enough for it. But there came a morning which was a proud oneto Nettie. Jerry had returned from Mrs. Farley's with news. "The sickdaughter is going South; she has an auntie who is to spend the winterin Florida, so they have decided to send her. They start to-morrowmorning. Mrs. Farley said they would take our eggs all the same, andshe wished Miss Helen could have them; but somebody else would have toeat them for her."
Then Nettie, beaming with pleasure, "Jerry, I wish you would tell Mrs.Farley that we can't spare them any more at present; I would have toldyou before, but I didn't want to take the egg from Miss Helen; I wantto buy them now, every other morning, for mother and father; motherthinks there is nothing nicer than a fresh egg, and I know father willbe pleased."
What satisfaction was in Nettie's voice, what joy in her heart! Oh!they were poor, very poor, "miserably poor" Lorena Barstow called them,but they had already reached the point where Nettie felt justified inplanning for a fresh egg apiece for father and mother, and knew thatit could be paid for. So Mrs. Speckle began from that day to keep theresults of her industry in the home circle, and grew more importantbecause of that.
Almost every day now brought surprises. One of the largest of them wasconnected with Susie Decker. That young woman from the very first hadshown a commendable interest in everything pertaining to the business.She patiently did errands for it, in all sorts of weather, and wasalways ready to dust shelves, arrange cookies without eating so much asa bite, and even wipe teaspoons, a task which she used to think beneathher. "If you can't trust me with things that would smash," she used tosay with scornful gravity, to Nettie, "then you can't expect me to bewilling to wipe those tough spoons."
But in these days, spoons were taken uncomplainingly. Susie had abusiness head, and was already learning to count pennies and add themto the five and ten cent pieces; and when Jerry said approvingly: "Oneof these days, she will be our treasurer," the faintest shadow of ablush would appear on Susie's face, but she always went on countinggravely, with an air of one who had not heard a word.
On a certain stormy, windy day, one of November's worst, it wasdiscovered late in the afternoon that th
e molasses jug was empty, andthe boys had been promised some molasses candy that very evening.
"What shall we do?" asked Nettie, looking perplexed, and standing jugin hand in the middle of the room. "Jerry won't be home in time to getit, and I can't leave those cakes to bake themselves; mother, you don'tthink you could see to them a little while till I run to the grocery,do you?"
Mrs. Decker shook her head, but spoke sympathetically: "I'd do it in aminute, child, or I'd go for the molasses, but these shirts are veryparticular; I never had such fine ones to iron before, and the ironsare just right, and if I should have to leave the bosoms at the wrongminute to look at the cakes, why, it would spoil the bosoms; and on theother hand, if I left the cakes and saved the bosoms, why, they wouldbe spoiled."
This seemed logical reasoning. Susie, perched on a high chair in frontof the table, was counting a large pile of pennies, putting them inheaps of twenty-five cents each. She waited until her fourth heap wascomplete, then looked up. "Why don't you ask me to go?"
"Sure enough!" said Nettie, laughing, "I'd 'ask' you in a minute if itdidn't rain so hard; but it seems a pretty stormy day to send out alittle chicken like you."
"I'm not a chicken, and I'm not the leastest bit afraid of rain; I cango as well as not if you only think so."
"I don't believe it will hurt her!" said Mrs. Decker, glancingdoubtfully out at the sullen sky. "It doesn't rain so hard as it did,and she has such a nice thick sack now."
It was nice, made of heavy waterproof cloth, with a lovely woollytrimming going all around it. Susie liked that sack almost better thananything else in the world. Her mother had bought it second-hand of awoman whose little girl had outgrown it; the mother had washed all dayand ironed another day to pay for it, and felt the liveliest delight inseeing Susie in the pretty garment.
The rain seemed to be quieting a little, so presently the young womanwas robed in sack and waterproof bonnet with a cape, and started on herway.
Half-way to the grocery she met Jerry hastening home from school with abag of books slung across his shoulder.
"Is it so late as that?" asked Susie in dismay. "Nettie thought youwouldn't be at home in a good while; the candy won't get done."
"No, it is as early as this," he answered laughing; "we were dismissedan hour earlier than usual this afternoon. Where are you going? aftermolasses? See here, suppose you give me the jug and you take my booksand scud home. There is a big storm coming on; I think the wind isgoing to blow, and I'm afraid it will twist you all up and pour themolasses over you. Then you'd be ever so sticky!"
Susie laughed and exchanged not unwillingly the heavy jug for thebooks. There had been quite wind enough since she started, and if therewas to be more, she had no mind to brave it.
"If you hurry," called Jerry, "I think you'll get home before the nextsquall comes." So she hurried; but Jerry was mistaken. The squall camewith all its force, and poor small Susie was twisted and whirled andlost her breath almost, and panted and struggled on, and was only toothankful that she hadn't the molasses jug.
Nearly opposite the Farley home, their side door suddenly opened and apleasant voice called: "Little girl, come in here, and wait until theshower is over; you will be wet to the skin."
It is true Susie did not believe that her waterproof sack _could_ bewet through, but that dreadful wind so frightened her, twisting thetrees as it did, that she was glad to obey the kind voice and rush intoshelter.
"Why, it is Nettie's sister, I do believe!" said Ermina Farley, helpingher off with the dripping hood.
"You dear little mouse, what sent you out in such a storm?"
Miss Susie not liking the idea of being a mouse much more than she didbeing a chicken, answered with dignity, and becoming brevity.
"Molasses candy!" said Mrs. Farley, laughing, yet with an undertone ofdisapproval in her voice which keen-minded Susie heard and felt, "Ishouldn't think that was a necessity of life on such a day as this."
"It is if you have promised it to some boys who don't ever haveanything nice only what they get at our house; and who save theirpennies that they spend on beer, and cider, and cigars to get it."
Wise Susie, indignation in every word, yet well controlled, and awarebefore she finished her sentence that she was deeply interesting heraudience! How they questioned her! What was this? Who did it? Whothought of it? When did they begin it? Who came? How did they get themoney to buy their things? Susie, thoroughly posted, thoroughly insympathy with the entire movement, calm, collected, keen far beyond heryears, answered clearly and well. Plainly she saw that this lady in asilken gown was interested.
"Well, if this isn't a revelation!" said Mrs. Farley at last. "A youngmen's Christian association not only, but an eating-house flourishingright in our midst and we knowing nothing about it. Did you knowanything of it, daughter?"
"No, ma'am," said Ermina. "But I knew that splendid Nettie was tryingto do something for her brother; and that nice boy who used to bringeggs was helping her; it is just like them both. I don't believe thereis a nicer girl in town than Nettie Decker."
Mrs. Farley seemed unable to give up the subject. She asked manyquestions as to how long the boys stayed, and what they did all thetime.
Susie explained: "Well, they eat, you know; and Norm doesn't hurrythem; he says they have to pitch the things down fast where they board,to keep them from freezing; and our room is warm, because we keep thekitchen door open, and the heat goes in; but we don't know what weshall do when the weather gets real cold; and after they have eaten allthe things they can pay for, they look at the pictures. Jerry's fathersends him picture papers, and Mr. Sherrill brings some, most every day.Miss Sherrill is coming Thanksgiving night to sing for them; and Nettiesays if we only had an organ she would play beautiful music. We wantto give them a treat for Thanksgiving; we mean to do it without anypay at all if we can; and father thinks we can, because he is workingnights this week, and getting extra pay; and Jerry thinks there willbe two chickens ready; and Nettie wishes we could have an organ for alittle while, just for Norm, because he loves music so, but of coursewe can't."
Long before this sentence was finished, Ermina and her mother hadexchanged glances which Susie, being intent on her story, did not see.
She was a wise little woman of business; what if Mrs. Farley shouldsay: "Well, I will give you a chicken myself for the Thanksgiving time,and a whole peck of apples!" then indeed, Susie believed that theirjoy would be complete; for Nettie had said, if they could only affordthree chickens she believed that with a lot of crust she could makechicken pie enough for them each to have a large piece, hot; not allthe boys, of course, but the seven or eight who worked in Norm's shopand boarded at the dreary boarding-house; they would so like to giveNorm a surprise for his birthday, and have a treat say at six o'clockfor all of these; for this year Thanksgiving fell on Norm's birthday.The storm held up after a little, and Susie, trudging home, a trifledisgusted with Mrs. Farley because she said not a word about the peckof apples or the other chicken, was met by Jerry coming in search ofher. The molasses was boiling over, he told her, and so was her mother,with anxiety lest the wind had taken her, Susie, up in a tree, and hadforgotten to bring her down again. He hurried her home between thesqualls, and Susie quietly resolved to say not a word about all thethings she had told at the Farley home. What if Nettie should thinkshe hadn't been womanly to talk so much about what they were doing! Ifthere was one thing that this young woman had a horror of during thesedays, it was that Nettie would think she was not womanly. The desire,nay, the determination to be so, at all costs had well nigh cured herof her fits of rage and screaming, because in one of her calm momentsNettie had pointed out to her the fact that she never in her life hearda _woman_ scream like that. Susie being a logical person, argued therest of the matter out for herself, and resolved to scream and stampher foot no more.
Great was the astonishment of the Decker family, next morning. Mrs.Farley herself came to call on them. She wanted some plain ironing donethat afternoon. Y
es, Mrs. Decker would do it and be glad to; it was aleisure afternoon with her. Mrs. Farley wanted something more! shewanted to know about the business in which Nettie and her young friendnext door were engaged; and Susie listened breathlessly, for fear itwould appear that she had told more than she ought. But Mrs. Farleykept her own counsel, only questioning Nettie closely, and at lastshe made a proposition that had well nigh been the ruin of the tin ofcookies which Nettie was taking from the oven. She dropped the tin!
"Did you burn you, child?" asked Mrs. Decker, rushing forward.
"No, ma'am," said Nettie, laughing, and trying not to laugh, andwanting to cry, and being too amazed to do so. "But I was so surprisedand so almost scared, that they dropped.
"O Mrs. Farley, we have wanted that more than anything else in theworld; ever since Mr. Sherrill saw how my brother Norman loved music,and said it might be the saving of him; Jerry and I have planned andplanned, but we never thought of being able to do it for a long, longtime."
Yet all this joy was over an old, somewhat wheezy little house organwhich stood in the second-story unused room of Mrs. Farley's house,and which she had threatened to send to the city auction rooms to getout of the way.
She offered to lend it to Nettie for her "Rooms," and Nettie'sgratitude was so great that the blood seemed inclined to leave her faceentirely for a minute, then thought better of it and rolled over it inwaves.