Little Fishers: and Their Nets

  CHAPTER VII.

  LONG STORIES TO TELL.

  IF only I had a good picture of Nettie, so that you might see theradiant look in her eyes just then!

  She had hoped for the money, she had tried to trust her father, butshe was, nevertheless, wonderfully surprised when her hand closed overthree dollars.

  "O father!" she said, "how nice." And then her courage rose. "Will yougo with me, father, to buy the shoes? The little girls are so eager forthem. I promised to take them with me to Sunday-school to-morrow, if Icould get shoes, but I don't know how to buy them very well. Could yougo?"

  The shoe shop was farther down the street, in an opposite directionfrom the one where Mr. Decker generally got his liquor, and wily Nettieremembered that there was a street leading from it which would takethem home without passing the saloon. Of course it was true that sheneeded his help to select the shoes, but it was also true that shewas very glad she did. Mr. Decker was untying his apron, and rollingdown his sleeves; he felt very thirsty--the sight of the money seemedto make him thirsty. He had meant to go directly to the saloon, givethem one dollar on the old bill, and spend what he needed, only a verylittle, on beer. With the rest of the money he honestly meant to payhis rent. Yet no one ought to have understood better than he that hewould not be likely to get away from that saloon with a cent of moneyin his pocket. For all that, he wanted to go. He wished Nettie would goaway and let him alone. But the men were watching.

  "You can't fit the children to shoes without having them along," hesaid gruffly. But Nettie was ready for him: "Oh!" she said, swiftlyunrolling a newspaper, "I brought their feet along." And with a brightlittle laugh she plumped down two badly worn shoes on the work table.

  "That left-footed one is Satie's. The other was so dreadfully worn out,I was afraid the shoemaker couldn't measure it. This is the best oneof Susie's."

  It was plain to any reasonable eyes that two pairs of shoes were badlyneeded.

  "I guess they need other things besides shoes."

  It was the father who said this, and they were out on the street, andhe was actually being drawn by Nettie's eager hand in the oppositedirection from the saloon.

  "O no," she said; "I had some clothes which I had outgrown; I havebeen at work at them all day, and they make nice little suits. AuntieMarshall sent them each a cunning little white sunbonnet. When we getthe shoes, they will look just as nice as can be. You don't know howpleased they are about going to Sunday-school. I am so glad they willnot be disappointed to-morrow."

  The shoes were bought, good, strong-looking little ones, andwonderfully cheap, perhaps because Nettie did the bargaining, and theman who knew how scarce her money must be, was sorry for the littlewoman. It did seem a great deal to pay out--two whole dollars--forshoes when everything was needed. It was warm weather, perhaps sheought to have let the little girls go barefoot for awhile, but then shecould not take them to Sunday-school very well; at least, it seemed toher that she couldn't; and father was willing to have them bought now.Who could tell when he would be willing again?

  He stood in the door and waited for her, wondering why he did so, whyhe could not leave her and go back to that saloon and get his drink.One reason was, that she gave him no chance. She appealed to him everyminute for advice.

  "Father, can we go to market now? I want to get just a splendid pieceof meat for your Sunday dinner. I know just how to cook it in a waythat you will like."

  "I guess you can do that without me; I have an errand in anotherdirection." They were on the street again. She caught his hand eagerly."O, father, do please come with me to the market, there are so many menthere I don't like to go alone; and it is so nice to take a walk withyou. I haven't had one since I came. Won't you please come, father?"

  Joe Decker hardly knew what to think of himself. There was somethingin her soft coaxing voice which seemed to take him back a dozen yearsinto the past, and which led him along in spite of himself.

  The meat was bought, Nettie looking wise over the different pieces, andinsisting on a neck piece, which the boy told her was not fit to eat."I know how to make it fit," she said, with a little nod of her head.

  "I want three pounds of it. And then, father, I want two carrots andtwo onions; I'm going to make something nice."

  Only sixty-eight cents of her precious money left!

  "I did need some butter," she said mournfully, "and that in the tublooks nice, but I guess I can't afford it this time."

  "How much is butter?" asked Mr. Decker, suddenly rising to the needs ofthe moment. "Twenty-five," said the grocer, shortly. He did not knowthe trim little woman who had paid for her carrots and onions, and heldthem in a paper bag at this moment, but he did know Joe Decker and hadan account against him. He had no desire to sell him any butter.

  "Then give me two pounds, and be quick about it." And Mr. Decker putdown a dollar bill on the counter.

  The man seized it promptly and began to arrange the butter in a neatwooden dish, while he said, "By the way, Mr. Decker, when will it beconvenient to settle that little account?"

  "I'll do it as soon as I can," said Mr. Decker, speaking low, forNettie turned toward him startled; this was worse than she thought.She had not known of any accounts. Mr. Decker himself had forgottenit until he stood in the very door. It was months since he had boughtgroceries.

  "Is it much, father?" Nettie asked, and he replied pettishly:

  "Much? no. It is only a miserable little three dollars. I mean to payit; he needn't be scared." Yet why he shouldn't be "scared," when hehad asked for those three dollars perhaps fifty times, Mr. Decker didnot say.

  "Father," said Nettie, in a very low voice, "couldn't you let the mankeep the fifty cents, on the account, and that would be a beginning?"

  But this was too much.

  "No," said Mr. Decker; "I will pay my bills when I get ready and notbefore; and it is none of your business when I do it. You must notmeddle with what does not belong to you."

  "No, sir;" said Nettie, though it was hard work to speak just then;there was a queer little lump in her throat. She was not in the habitof being spoken to in this way. The butter was ready, and the manhanded back the change.

  Mr. Decker pocketed it, saying as he did so, "I'll have some money foryou next week, I guess." And then they went away.

  "If it hadn't been for the girl I'd have kept the fifty cents and gotso much out of the old drunkard; but someway I couldn't bring myselfto doing it with her looking on." This was what the grocer muttered asthey walked away. But they did not hear him. Nettie was bent now ontolling her father down the cross street to go home.

  "Father," she said, "we are going to have milk toast for supper. Mothersaid she would have it ready, and toast spoils, you know, if it standslong. Couldn't we go home this way and make it shorter?"

  He was a good deal astonished that he did it. He was still verythirsty, but there really came to him no decent excuse for desertinghis little girl and going back to the saloon. And they walked into thehouse together, so astonishing Mrs. Decker that she almost dropped theteapot which she was filling with hot water. Whatever other night, Mr.Decker contrived to get home to supper, he was always late on Saturday,and in a worse condition than at any other time.

  That was really a nice little suppertime. Mrs. Decker had done her partwell, not for the husband whom she did not expect, but in gratitude tothe little girl who had worked so hard all the week for herself andher neglected babies. The toast was well made, and the tea was good.Besides, there was a treat; not ten minutes before, Mrs. Job Smith hadsent in a plate of ginger cookies; "for the children," she said, andthe children each had one. So did the father and mother.

  Mr. Decker washed his hands before he sat down to the table, for thetablecloth had been freshly washed and ironed that day, and his wifehad on a clean calico apron and a strip of white cloth about her neck,and her hair was smooth.

  "There!" said Nettie, displaying her meat, "now, mother, we can havethat stew for to-morrow, just as we planned. F
ather got the meat, andthe carrots, and everything. And what do you think, little girlies,father bought you each a pair of shoes!"

  Mrs. Decker set down the teapot again. She was just in the act ofgiving her husband a cup of tea, and the color came and went on herface so queerly that Nettie for a moment was frightened. As for thefather, he felt very queer. Scared and silent as his little girlsgenerally were in his presence, they could not keep back a littlesqueal of delight over this wonderful piece of news. Altogether, Mr.Decker could not help feeling that it really was a nice thing to beable to buy shoes and meat for his family.

  "Come," he said, "give us your tea if you're going to; I'm as dry as afish."

  And the tea was poured.

  The toast was good, and there was plenty of it, and someway it tooklonger to eat it than this family usually spent at the supper-table;and then, after supper, the shoes had to be tried on, and Nettie calledthe little girls to their father to see if the shoes fitted, and hetook Sate up on his lap to examine them, which was a thing that had nothappened to Sate in so long that Susie scowled and expected that shewould be frightened, but Sate seemed to like it, and actually stole anarm around her father's neck and patted his cheek, while he was feelingof the shoe. Then Mrs. Decker had a happy thought.

  She winked and motioned Nettie into the bedroom and whispered: "Don'tyou believe he might like to see the children in their nice clothes?I ain't seen him notice them so much in a year; and he hasn't beendrinking a mite, has he?"

  "Not a drop," said Nettie; "I'll dress Susie." And she flew out to thekitchen.

  "Father, just you wait until Susie is ready to show you something. Comehere, Susie, quick." And almost in less time than it takes me to tellit, Susie was whisked into the pretty petticoats and dress which hadbeen shortened and tightened for her that day. The dress was a plain,not over-fine white one; but it was beautifully ironed, and the whitesunbonnet perched on the trim head completed the picture and made apretty creature of Susie. I am sure I don't wonder that the child felta trifle vain as she squeaked out in her new shoes to show herself toher father. She had not been neatly dressed long enough to consider itas a matter of course.

  "Upon my word!" said Mr. Decker, and there he stopped. This wascertainly a wonderful change. He looked at his little daughter fromhead to foot, and could hardly believe his eyes. What a pretty childshe was. And to think that she was his! Certainly she ought to have newshoes, and new clothes. Sate's arm was still about his neck, and Sate'ssweet full lips were suddenly touched to his rough cheek.

  "I've got new clothes too," she said sweetly, "only I doesn't want toget down from here to put them on."

  The father turned at that and kissed her. Then he sat her down hastilyand got up. Something made his eyes dim. He really did not know whatwas the matter with him, only it all seemed to come to him suddenlythat he had some very nice children, and that they ought to haveclothes and food and chances like others, and that it was his own faultthey hadn't.

  Nettie hated tobacco, but she went herself in haste and lighted herfather's pipe and brought it to him; if he must smoke, it would be somuch better to have him sit in the door and do it rather than to go offdown to that saloon. She hated the saloon worse than the tobacco. Asshe brought the pipe, she said within her hopeful little heart: "Maybesometime he won't want either to drink or smoke. I most know we cancoax him to give them both up; and then won't that be nice?"

  One thing was troubling her; as soon as she could, she followed hermother into the yard and questioned, "Do you know where Norm is?"

  Yes, Mrs. Decker knew. He came home just after Nettie had gone out,and said he had an hour's holiday; their room had closed early forSaturday, and he was going to wash up and go down street before supper.

  "My heart was in my mouth," said the poor mother; "because when thereis a holiday he gets into worse scrapes than he does any other time;he goes with a set that don't do anything but have holidays, and theyalways have some mischief hatched up to get Norm into. I never see thelike of the boys in this town for getting others into scrapes; but Ididn't dare to say a word, because Norm thinks he is getting too bigfor me to give him any words, and just as he was going out, that boynext door--Jerry, you said his name was, didn't you?--he came outand called Norm, real friendly, and they stood talking together; heappeared to be arguing something, and Norm holding off, and at lastNorm came in and wanted the tin pail and said he had changed his mindand was going fishing; and they went off together, them two." And Mrs.Decker finished the sentence with a rare smile. She was grateful toJerry for carrying off her boy, and grateful to Nettie for thinkingabout him and being anxious.

  "Good!" said Nettie with a happy little laugh, "then we will have somefried fish to-morrow for breakfast. What a nice day to-morrow is goingto be."

  Mr. Decker was a good deal surprised at himself, but he did not go downtown again that night. After he had smoked, he felt thirsty, it istrue, and at that very minute Nettie came in with the one glass whichthey had in the house, and it was full of lemonade.

  "Did he want a nice cool drink?" she had two lemons which she boughtwith her own money, and she knew how to make good lemonade, AuntieMarshall used to say.

  The father drank the cool liquid off almost at a swallow, said it wasgood, and that he guessed she knew how to do most things. By this timethe little girls had been tucked away to bed, and just as Mr. Deckerrose up to say he guessed he would go down street awhile, Norm appearedwith a string of fish. They were beauties; he declared that he neverhad such luck in his life; that fellow just bewitched the fish, hebelieved, so they would rather be caught than not. Then came a talkabout dressing them. Norm said he was sure he did not know how; and Mr.Decker said, a great fellow like him ought to know how. When he was aboy of fourteen he used to catch fish for his mother almost every dayof his life, and dress them too; his mother never had to touch themuntil they were ready to cook. Then Nettie, flushed and eager, said:

  "O father, then you can show me how to do it, can't you? I would liketo learn just the right way." And the father laughed, and looked at hiswife with something like the old look on his face, and said he seemedto be fairly caught. And together they went to the box outside, and inthe soft summer night, with the moon looking down on them, Nettie tookher lesson in fish dressing.

  When the work was all done, Norm having hovered around through it all,and watched, and helped a little, Mr. Decker went back to the kitchenand yawned, and wondered how late it was. No clock in this house togive any idea of time. There used to be, but one day it got out oforder and Mr. Decker carried it down street to be fixed, and neverbrought it back. Mrs. Decker asked about it a good many times, thenwent herself in search of it, and found it in the saloon at the corner.

  "He took it for debt," the owner told her, and a poor bargain it was;it never came to time, any better than her husband did. However, justas Mr. Decker made his wonderment, the old clock over at Mrs. Smith'srose up to its duty, and dignifiedly struck nine.

  "Well, I declare," said Mr. Decker, "I did not think it was as late asthat. There ain't any evenings now days. Well, I guess, after all, I'llgo to bed. I'm most uncommon tired to-night somehow."

  Norm had already gone up to his room; and Mrs. Decker when she heardher husband's words, hurried into the bedroom to hide two happy tears.

  "I declare for it, I believe you have bewitched him," she said toNettie, who followed her to ask about the breakfast; "I ain't known himto do such a thing not in two years, as to go to bed at nine o'clockwithout ever going down street again. He don't act like himself; nota mite. I was most scared when I saw him take Sate in his arms; thatchild don't remember his doing it before, I don't believe. Did hereally buy the things, child, and pay for them? Well, now, it does beatall! And Saturday night, too; that has always been his worst night.Child, if you get hold of your father, and of my Norm, there ain'tanything in this world too good for you. I'd work my fingers to thebone any time to help along, and be glad to."

  It was all very sweet. Nett
ie ran away before the sentence was fairlyfinished, waiting only to say, "Good-night, mother!" She had done thisevery night since she came, but to-night she reached up and touchedher lips to the tall woman's thin cheek. Poor Nettie had been used tokissing somebody every night when she went to bed. It had made herhomesick not to do it. But she had not wanted to kiss anybody in thishouse, except the little girls. To-night, she wanted to kiss thismother. She reached the back door, then stopped and looked back; herfather sat in his shirt sleeves, in the act of pulling off one boot.Should she tell him good-night? He had not been there for her to do ita single evening since she came home. Should she kiss him? Why not?Wasn't he her father? Yet he might not like it. She could not be sure.He was not like the fathers she had known. However, she came back ontiptoe and stooped over him, her voice low and sweet:

  "Good-night, father! I am going now." And then she put a kiss on therough cheek, just where little Sate had left her velvet touch.

  Mr. Decker started almost as though somebody had struck him. But it wasnot anger which filled his face.

  "Good-night, my girl," he said, but his voice was husky; and Nettie ranas fast as she could across the yard to the next house.

  "I did not get the things," she said to Jerry, who stood in the doorwaywaiting for her; "I couldn't; but, Jerry, I had such a wonderful time!Father gave me money, and we went to market, and bought shoes and hebought butter; and since we came home almost everything has happened. Ican't begin to tell you. I can get some of the things on Monday. Fathergave me money."

  "All right," said Jerry; "I didn't get the skeletons ready, either; Imeant to work after tea, but instead of that I went fishing." And hegave her a bright smile.

  "Oh! I know it," said Nettie, breathless almost with eagerness. "Thatis part of my nice time. Jerry, I am so glad you went fishing to-night,and I am so glad you caught your fish; not the ones which we are toeat for our Sunday breakfast, you know, but the other one. Do youunderstand?"

  And Jerry laughed. "I understand," he said, "I had a nice time, too. Weshall have some long stories to tell each other, I guess. We must go innow."