Little Fishers: and Their Nets

  CHAPTER II.

  BEGINNING HER LIFE.

  SHE did not remember anything, but the yard was very dirty, and thefence was tumbling down, and there were lights of glass out of thewindows, and a general air of discomfort prevailed. It did not looklike a home. Besides, where were father and mother? There must be somemistake.

  The two little Deckers who had played and quarreled together allday had left their work to come and stare at the new comer out ofastonished eyes. Certainly they did not seem to have been expecting her.

  The new comer turned to the elder of the two children, and spoke in agentle winning voice: "Little girl, do you live here--in this house?"

  The child with her forefinger placed meditatively on her lip, and herbright eyes staring intensely, decided to nod that she did.

  "And can you tell me what your name is?"

  To this question there was no answer for several seconds, then shethought better of it and gravely said: "I could."

  This seemed so funny, that poor Nan, though by this time carrying avery sad heart, could not help smiling.

  "Well, will you?" she asked.

  But at this the tangled yellow head was shaken violently. No, shewouldn't.

  "It can't be," said Nan, talking to herself, since there was no one whowould talk with her, looking with troubled eyes at the two uncombed,unwashed children, with their dresses half torn from them, and dirtierthan any dresses that this trim little maiden had ever seen before,"this really cannot be the place! and yet father said this street andnumber; and the driver said this was right." Then she stooped to thelittle one. "Won't you tell me if your name is Satie Decker?"

  But this one was shy, and hid her dirty face in her dirty hands, andstepped back behind her sister who at once came to the rescue.

  "Yes, 'tis," she said, "and you let her alone."

  A shadow fell over Nan's face, but she said quickly, "Then you must beSusie Decker, and this place is really home!"

  But you cannot think how strangely it sounded to her to call sucha looking spot as this home. There was no use in standing on thedoorstep. She could feel that curious eyes were peeping at her fromneighbors' windows. She stepped quickly inside the half-open door, intothe kitchen where that breakfast-table still stood, with the flies sothick around the molasses cup, from which the children had long sincedrained the molasses, that it was difficult to tell whether there was acup behind it, or whether this really was a pyramid of flies.

  The children followed her in. Susie had a dark frown on her face, and adetermined air, as one who meant to stand up for her rights and protectthe little sister who still tried to hide behind her. I think it waswell they were there; had they not been, I feel almost sure that thestranger would have sat down in the first chair and cried.

  Poor little woman! It was such a sorrowful home-coming to her. Sodifferent from what she had been planning all day.

  I wish I could give you a real true picture of her as she stood inthe middle of that dreadful room, trying to choke back the tears whileshe convinced herself that she was really Nettie Decker. A trim littlefigure in a brown and white gingham dress, a brown straw hat trimmedwith broad bands and ends of satin ribbon, with brown gloves on herhands, and a ruffle in her neck. This was Nettie Decker; neat andorderly, from ruffle to buttoned boots. I wonder if you can think whata strange contrast she was to everything around her?

  What was to be done? she could not stand there, gazing about her; andthere seemed no place to sit down, and nowhere to go. Where couldfather be? Why had he not stayed at home to welcome his little girl? orif too busy for that, surely the mother could have stayed, and he musthave left a message for her.

  If the little girls would only be good and try to tell her what allthis strangeness meant! She made another effort to get into theirconfidence. She bent toward Susie, smiling as brightly as she could,and said: "Didn't you know, little girlie, that I was your sisterNettie? I have come home to play with you and help you have a nicetime."

  Even while she said it, she felt ten years older than she ever hadbefore, and she wondered if she should ever play anything again; and ifit could be possible for people to have nice times who lived in such ahouse as this. But Susie was in no sense won, and scowled harder thanever, as she said in a suspicious tone: "I ain't got no sister Nettie,only Sate, and Nan."

  Hot as the room was, the neat little girl shivered. There was somethingdreadful to her in the sound of that name. She had forgotten that sheever used to hear it; she remembered her father as having called her'Nannie'; that would do very well, though it was not so pleasant to heras the 'Nettie' to which she had been answering for seven years.

  But how strange and sad it was that these little sisters should havebeen taught to call her Nan! could there be a more hateful name thanthat, she wondered. Did it mean that her step-mother hated her, and hadtaught the children to do so? She swallowed at the lump in her throat.What if she should cry! what would those children say or do, and whatwould happen next? she must try to explain.

  "I am Nannie," she couldn't make her lips say the word Nan. "I havecome home to live, and to help you!" She did not feel like saying "playwith you," now. "Will you be a good girl, and let me love you?"

  How Susie scowled at her then! "No," she said, firmly, "I won't."

  There seemed to be no truthful answer to make to this, for in thebottom of her heart, Nannie did not believe that she could. Still, shemust make the best of it, and she began slowly to draw off her gloves.Clearly she must do something towards getting herself settled.

  "Won't you tell me where father is? or mother?" her voice faltered alittle over that word; "maybe you can show me where to put my trunk; doyou know which is to be my room?"

  There were pauses made between each of these questions. The poor littlestranger seemed to be trying first one form and then another, to see ifit was possible to get any help.

  Susie decided at last to do something besides scowl.

  "Mother's sick. She lies in bed and groans all the time. She ain't gotus no dinner to-day; Sate and me called her, and called her, and shewouldn't say anything to us. There ain't no room only this and that,"nodding her head toward the bedroom door, "and the room over the shedwhere Norm sleeps. Norm is hateful. He didn't bring home no bread thisnoon for Sate and me; and he said maybe he would; we're awful hungry."

  "Perhaps he couldn't," said poor startled Nettie. She hardly knewwhat she said, only it seemed natural to try to excuse Norm. But whatdreadful story was this! If there was really a sick mother, why was notthe father bending over her, and the house hushed and darkened, andsomebody tiptoeing about, planning comforts for the night? She had seensomething of sickness, and this was the way it was managed.

  Then what was this about there being no room for her? Then what in theworld was she to do? Oh, what did it all mean! She felt as though shemust run right back to the depot, and get on the cars and go to her owndear home. To be sure she knew that her father was poor; what of that?so were the Marshalls; she had heard Mrs. Marshall say many a timethat "poor folks can't have such things," in answer to some of thechildren's coaxings. But poverty such as this which seemed to surroundthis home was utterly strange to Nettie.

  Still, though she felt such a child, she was also a woman; in somethings at least. She knew there was no going home for her to-night. Ifshe had the money to go with, and if there had been a train to go on,she would still have been stayed, because it would be wrong to go. Herfather had sent for her, had said that they wanted her, needed her,and her father certainly had a right to her; and she had come awaywith a full heart, and a firm resolve to be as good and as helpful andas happy in her old home as she possibly could. And now that nothinganywhere was as she had expected it, was no reason why she should notstill do right. Only, what was there for her to do, and how should shebegin?

  She stood there still in the middle of the room, the children staring.Presently she crossed on tiptoe to the bedroom door which was partlyopen and peeped in, catching her first gli
mpse of the woman whom shemust call "mother."

  Also she caught a glimpse of that dreadful bed; and the horrors of thatsight almost took away the thought of the woman lying on it. How couldshe help being sick if she had to sleep in such a place as that? PoorNettie Decker! She stood and looked, and looked. Then seeing that thewoman did not stir, but seemed to be in a heavy sleep, she shut thedoor softly and came away.

  I don't suppose that Nettie Decker will ever forget the next threehours of her life, even if she lives to be an old woman. Not thatanything wonderful happened; only that, for years and years afterwards,it seemed to her that she grew suddenly, that afternoon, from ahappy-hearted little girl of thirteen, into a care-taking, sorrowfulwoman. While she stood in that bedroom door, a perfect whirl ofthoughts rushed through her brain, and when she shut the door, she hadcome to this conclusion:

  "I can't help it; I am Nettie Decker; he is my father, and I belong tohim, and I ought to be here if he wants me; and she is my mother; andif it is dreadful, I can't help it; there is everything to do; and Imust do it."

  It was then that she shut the door softly and went back and began herlife.

  There was that trunk out on the stoop. It ought to go somewhere. Atleast she could drag it into the kitchen so that the troops of childrengathering about the door need not have it to wonder at any longer.Putting all her strength to it she drew it in and shut the door. Bythis time, Sate, who was getting used to her as she had gotten used tomany a new thing in her little life, began to wail that she was hungry,and wanted some bread and some molasses.

  "Poor little girlie!" Nettie said, "don't cry; I'll see if I canfind you something to eat. Did she really have no dinner, Susie? Oh,darling, don't cry so; you will trouble poor mother."

  But Susie had gone back to the scowling mood. "She _shall_ cry, if shewants to; you can't stop her; and you needn't try; I'll cry too, justas loud as I can."

  And Susie Decker who had strong lungs and always did as she said shewould, immediately set up such a howl as put Sate's milder crying quitein the shade.

  Nettie looked over at the bedroom door in dismay; but no sound camefrom there. Yet this roaring was fearful. How could it be stopped?Suddenly she plunged her hand into the depths of a small travelling bagwhich still hung on her arm, and brought forth a lovely red-cheekedpeach. She held it before the eyes of the naughty couple and spoke in adetermined tone: "This is for the one who stops crying this instant."

  Both children stopped as suddenly as though they had been wound up, andthe machinery had run down.

  Nettie smiled, and went back into the travelling bag. "There must betwo of them, it seems," she said, and brought out another peach. "Nowyou are to sit down on the steps and eat them, while I see what can befound for our supper."

  Down sat the children. There had been quiet determination in thisnew-comer's tone, and peaches were not to be trifled with. Their mouthshad watered for a taste ever since the dear woolly things began toappear in the grocery windows, and not one had they had!

  Now began work indeed. Nettie opened her trunk and drew out a workapron which covered her dress from throat to shoes, and made her lookif anything, prettier than before. Where was the broom? The childrenbusy with their peaches, neither knew nor cared; however, a vigoroussearch among the rubbish in the shed brought one to light. And thenthere was such a cloud of dust as the Decker kitchen had not seen in along time. Then came a visit to the back yard in search of chips; bothchildren following close at her heels, saying nothing, but watchingevery movement with wide-open wondering eyes. Back again to the kitchenand the fire was made up. Then an old kettle was dragged out from ahole in the corner, which poor Mrs. Decker called a closet. It was tohold water, while the fire heated it, but first it must be washed;everything must be washed that was touched. Where was the dishcloth?

  The children being asked, stared and shook their heads. Nettiesearched. She found at last a rag so black and ill-smelling thatwithout giving the matter much thought she opened the stove door andthrust it in. This brought a rebuke from the fierce Susie.

  "You better look out how you burn up my mother's things. My mother willtake your head right off."

  "It wasn't good for anything, dear," Nettie said soothingly, "it wastoo dirty." And she stooped down and turned over the contents of thetrunk. Neat little piles of clothing, carefully marked with her fullname; a pretty green box which Susie dived for, and pushing off thecover disclosed little white ruffles, some of lace, and some of finelawn, lying cosily together; but Nettie was not searching for suchas these. Quite at the bottom of the trunk was a pile of towels,all neatly hemmed and marked. Two of these she selected; lookedthoughtfully at one of them for a moment, and then with a grave shakeof her head, got out her scissors and snipped it in two. Now she hada dishcloth, and a towel for drying. But what a pity to soil thenice white cloth by washing out that iron kettle! Nettie had gravesuspicions that after such a proceeding it would not be fit for thedishes. Still, the kettle must be washed, and to have used the blackrag which she had burned, was out of the question.

  There was no help for it, the other neat dishcloth must be sacrificed.So taking the precaution to wipe out the iron kettle with a piece ofpaper, and then to heat it quite hot, and apply soap freely, the clothescaped without very serious injury; and in less time than it takes meto tell it, the water was getting itself into bubbles over the stove,and a tin pan was being cleaned, ready for the dishes. Then they weregathered, and placed in the hot and soapy water, and washed and rinsedand polished with the white towel until they shone; and the littlegirls looked on, growing more amazed each moment.

  It did not take long to wash every dish there was in that house. Isuppose you would have been very much astonished if you could haveseen how few there were! Nettie was very much astonished. She wonderedhow people could get supper with so few dishes, to say nothing ofbreakfasts and dinner. But you see she did not know how little therewas to put on them.

  The next question was, Where to put them? One glance at the upper partof the closet where she had found some of them, convinced Nettie thather clean dishes could not be happy resting on those shelves. There wasno help for it; they must be scrubbed, though she had not intended tobegin housecleaning the first afternoon. More water and more soap, andthe few shelves were soon cleared of rubbish, and washed. Nettie piledall the rubbish on a lower shelf and left it for a future day. She didnot dare to burn any more property.

  "Don't they look pretty?" she said to the children, when at last thedishes were neatly arranged on the shelf. One held them all, nicely.

  Susie nodded with a grave face that said she had not yet decidedwhether to be pleased or indignant.

  "What did you do it for?" she asked, after a moment's silent survey.

  "Why, to make them clean and shining. You and I are going to clear upthe house and make it look ever so nice for mother when she wakes up."

  "Did you come home to help mother?"

  "Yes, indeed. And you two little sisters must show me how to help her;poor sick mother! I am afraid she has too much to do."

  "She cries," said Susie gravely, as though she were stating not asurprising but simply a settled fact; "she cried every day: not outloud like Sate and me, but softly. Father says she is always sniveling."

  If you had been watching Nettie Decker just then you would have noticedthat the blood flamed into her cheeks, and her eyes had a flash ofwonder, and terror, and anger in them. What did it all mean? Wherehad the children learned such words? Was it possible that her fathertalked in this way to his wife?

  "Hush!" she said unguardedly, "you must not talk so." But this made thefierce little Susie stamp her foot.

  "I _shall_ talk so!" she said angrily; "I shall talk just what Iplease, and you sha'n't stop me." And then the queer little mimicbeside her stamped her foot, and said, "You sha'n't stop me."

  Said Nettie, "There was a little girl on the cars to-day that I knew.She had a little gray kitty with three white feet, and a white spot onone ear, and it ha
d a blue ribbon around its neck. What if you had sucha kitty. Would you be real good to it?"

  "I will have a _black_ kitty," said Susie, "all black; as black as thatstove." Nettie glancing at the stove, could not help thinking that itwas more gray than black; but she kept her thoughts to herself, andSusie went on. "And it should have a red ribbon around its neck; as redas Janie Martin's dress; her dress is as red as fire, and has ruffleson, and ribbons. But what would it eat?"

  She did not mean the dress but the kitten.

  Nettie laughed, but hastened to explain that the kitten would need asaucer of milk quite often, and bits of various things. This made wiseSusie gravely shake her head.

  "We don't have no milk," she said, "only once in awhile when Norm buysit; Sate, she often cries for milk, but she don't get none. It don't dono good to cry for milk; I ain't cried for any in a long time."

  Poor little philosopher! Poor, pitiful childhood without any milk!Hardly anything could have told the story of poverty to Nettie's youngears more surely than this. Why, she was a big girl thirteen years old,and had lived in a city where milk was scarce, and yet her glass hadbeen filled every evening. Nettie did not know what to make of it. Howcame her father to be so poor? She was sure that the house did not looklike this when she went away; and her clothes had been neat and good.She had the little red dress now which she wore away. She thought of itwhen Susie was talking, and wondered if with a little fixing it couldnot be made to fit the black-eyed child who seemed to admire red somuch. Finding the kitty a troublesome subject, at least so far as thefinding of milk for it was concerned, she turned the conversation tothe little girls who had been on the cars; the one with the kitty, andher little sister, whom she called "Pet." "She was about as old as you,Susie, and Pet was about Satie's age. And she was very kind to Pet;she always spoke to her so gently, and took such care of her everybodyseemed to love her for her kindness."

  "I take care of Sate," said Susie. "I never let anybody hurt her. Iwould scratch their eyes out if they did; and they know it."

  "You slap me sometimes," little Sate said, her voice slightlyreproachful.

  "Yes," said Susie loftily, "but that is when you are bad and need it; Idon't let anybody else slap you."

  "The oldest little girl had curly hair," said Nettie, "but it wasn't solong as yours, and did not curl so nicely as I think yours would. AndPet's hair was a pretty brown, like Sate's, and looked very pretty. Itwas combed so neatly. One wore a blue dress, and one a white dress; butI think they would have looked prettier if they had been dressed bothalike."

  "I don't like white dresses," said Susie; "I like fiery red ones."

  So Nettie resolved that the red dress should be made to fit her.

  Meantime, the scrubbing had gone on rapidly; the table was as clean assoap and water could make it. Now if those children would only let herwash their faces and put their hair in order, how different they wouldlook. Should she venture to suggest it?

  It all depended on how the idea happened to strike Susie.