At the Little Brown House

by Edward Stratemeyer

  CHAPTER III

  SHOES AND STRAWBERRIES

  "Cherry! Cherry Greenfield!" called Peace, imperatively, flapping anewspaper vigorously, as if to add emphasis to her summons.

  "Here," drawled a lazy voice from the great elm by the road. "What doyou want? I am busy."

  "You are reading, that's what!" exclaimed her sister in disgust, as shecame within sight of the slender, brown legs swinging among thethickly-leaved branches. "Shut up that book and listen to me. I've gotsome portentious"--she meant important--"news. Cameron's Shoe Storeadvertises shoes at forty-nine cents. That means a pair, doesn't it?They wouldn't sell them separately, would they,--'cepting to one-leggedpeople? And the sale lasts the whole week."

  "Well, what of it?" asked Cherry, impatiently opening her book oncemore; but Peace had scrambled up into the leafy retreat by this time,and she thrust a ragged newspaper page into her sister's hands, crying,"What of it? Why, Charity Greenfield, you were saying just this morningthat you'd have to have some new shoes pretty quick or go barefooted onSundays. How would you like that? And mine are 'most worn out, too."

  "Well, I can't help it if we must have shoes. Gail says there won't beany extra money this month. It took all she had to pay up Mike, so shecould let him go. Besides, this paper says they are canvas shoes. Thosewouldn't last us any time. Faith says we ought to have cow-hide--"

  "Yes, that sounds just like her. She is always saying something cross.She ought to be thankful that we don't wear our shoes out any faster.S'posing we didn't have any summer so we could go barefooted, ors'posing we had as many legs as a spider, and had to buy a dozen pair ofshoes each time. I guess _that_ would take money! Aren't canvas shoesthe things Nellie Banker had? Hers wore an awfully long time and she putthem on every day, too."

  "Well, I don't see how that helps us any if we haven't got the money.Cameron's Shoe Store is in Martindale, too. Where did you get thispaper?"

  "I've been helping Mrs. Grinnell shell peas, and she dumped the podsonto this scrap. When I saw 'shoes forty-nine cents,' I asked her if itmeant sure-enough shoes for that little, and she said it did, and thatany time we wanted to get things in town at a sale when she was goingin, we could drive along with her."

  "But the money--"

  "Can't we earn it? I heard Mr. Hardman tell the butcher that he neededsomeone to help pick his late strawberries, and he'll pay five cents aquart. We've often picked strawberries, and it isn't very hardwork--just hot and mon-mon--I can't think of the rest of that word."

  "It's just as well," answered Cherry, with unconscious sarcasm. "'Twaslikely wrong anyway. Do you mean to say you would pick berries for Mr.Hartman, when you hate him so?"

  "Why not--if he will have us? His money is just as good as any otherman's, ain't it? Only he's mighty stingy."

  "That's just it! I don't believe you heard him right. He'll never payfive cents a quart for picking berries, Peace. Now, if it was JudgeAbbott or Mrs. Grinnell--Why, strawberries are cheap!"

  "Not now, when they are 'most gone. And, besides, he told the butcherthat one of the big hotels in Martindale pays him twenty cents a quartfor all he will bring them. It's a special kind, you see, splendid bigones, that only rich folks can 'ford to eat."

  Cherry swung her feet thoughtfully as she read the alluringadvertisement once more, and pondered the question of such importance toboth little girls, but she ventured no reply.

  "Well?" said Peace, sharply, after some moments of impatient silence.

  "It's awfully hot to pick berries in the sun all day," yawned Cherry,fingering her book longingly.

  Peace snorted in disgust, and seizing the precious paper from hersister's lap, she swung nimbly to the ground and started off across themeadow on the other side of the fence.

  "Wait, Peace! Where are you going?" cried Cherry, scrambling off herperch, thoroughly awake now.

  "To pick me a pair of shoes in Mr. Hardman's strawberry patch," answeredPeace, quickening her pace.

  "Oh, don't hurry so fast. I'll go, too. But s'posing he won't let uspick berries for him?"

  "I ain't s'posing any such thing. We've picked strawberries before. Why,Allee knows how. Anyone with sense can do a thing like that!"

  "Is--are you going to take Allee along if he should give us the job?"

  "No, her shoes will last a long time yet. She doesn't need any newones."

  By this time they had reached the long, low, green house on the farmadjoining theirs, and almost bumped into Mr. Hartman himself, as theydashed breathlessly around the corner in search of him.

  "Highty, tighty!" ejaculated the startled man, leaping aside to avoid acollision. "What are you young rapscallions doing over here? You bettermake tracks for home."

  "Ramscallion yourself," Peace burst out hotly, nursing a stubbed toe andwinking rapidly to keep the tears back. "We've come to pick yourstrawberries."

  "You have, eh? Well now, what if I won't let you?"

  "Then we'll go home. Come, Cherry!" Grabbing her sister's hand, shemarched angrily toward the road, but he called after her, "What will youpick berries for?"

  "Five cents a quart," she replied briefly, not looking around orslackening her gait in the least.

  He chuckled. "Huh! Your price is pretty steep."

  "'Pends upon how you look at it," she flung back at him. "You pay thatto other folks, and we can pick as good as anyone. Mrs. Grinnellalways--"

  "Mrs. Grinnell's berries are only scrubs."

  "Scrubs have to be picked carefully so's not to squash them."

  He laughed outright, and Peace marched on with head high and cheeksaflame with anger.

  Before she had reached the road, however, he stopped her by saying,"What do you want to pick berries for this hot weather?"

  "For money. We want some shoes. Cameron's are selling canvas shoes forforty-nine cents a pair all this week, and Mrs. Grinnell is going intown Saturday, and we could drive with her--s'posing we could earnenough for the shoes."

  "Why don't your ma buy some?"

  "Mother's sick and Gail hasn't any money."

  "You've got a pretty little farm there--"

  "We can't wear farms on our feet," snapped Peace, moving off once more,but again he stopped them, for he was really in need of pickers in orderto harvest his big crop of berries before they spoiled on the vines."Well, now, I'll tell you, kids, I will try you at picking, and--"

  "Pay us five cents a box?"

  "Yes, if you are good at the job. Come tomorrow morning."

  "We'll begin now. This is Thursday, and that sale lasts only tillSaturday. It might rain tomorrow, and 'sides, it _might_ take us more'na day."

  "Well, suit yourselves," chuckled the man. "But be sure you do good workand don't eat up the berries."

  So the two small sisters were soon busily engaged in picking theluscious red fruit and packing it in quart boxes, while the sun pouredmercilessly down upon them. But they pluckily stuck to their post untilthe day was done, trying to forget the heat and dust in planning theirtrip to the big city, which they had visited so seldom. However, twolong, thankful sighs escaped their dry lips when at length Gail's horntooted out the summons to the evening meal, and they hurried homeward asfast as their aching backs and tired feet would carry them, exultantthough perspiring.

  "Gracious!" murmured Cherry plaintively, as she bathed her hot face atthe pump, "I never knew before how many berries it took to make aquart."

  "It would take lots more if we were picking wild strawberries. Theyain't bigger'n peas, but these are whoppers."

  "And covered thick with spiders--ugh! I feel them crawling all over menow. I believe I killed a million just this afternoon."

  Peace laughed. They didn't bother her. "Just s'posing those strawberrieswere bugs really, and when the hotel people ate them the bugs wouldbite. My, wouldn't you like to hear them holler?"

  "Why, Peace Greenfield!" cried Cherry in a shocked voice.

  "Well, Hope was reading yesterday about some place where snakes coil upand look just like sp
rings of water, and when thirsty people bend overto drink, the snakes bite them. There _might_ be bugs somewhere thatlooked like strawberries so folks would try to eat them. Course Iwouldn't want them to hurt the people bad--just enough to make them jumpgood."

  "I would rather have strawberries look like pennies--"

  "I'd rather have them _be_ pennies. Just think, if we could pick moneyoff from strawberry vines! Everyone would start to raising strawberries,wouldn't they? And how rich we would be! Never mind, we picked tenboxes of berries this afternoon--that means a shoe apiece. We surelyought to get that many more by noon tomorrow. Let's begin early so's topick as many as we can before it gets hot."

  So the morrow found them early in the field again, and by noon thesecond ten boxes were filled to the brim.

  "There!" breathed Cherry in relief, mopping her crimson face on hersleeve as she surveyed the fruit of their labor. "We are done. Now wecan get our shoes all right tomorrow. Why, what are you doing, Peace?Are you crazy?" For Peace had snatched up some empty boxes from anothercrate and was making her way between the green rows again.

  "Nope," answered the perspiring little maid. "I am just going to picksome more."

  "Well, I'm not!" was the emphatic reply, as Cherry started after thedusty figure plodding down the field. "I am nearly cooked now, andhungry as a bear. Come on home! We have picked enough to pay for ourshoes, goosie. Or do you want two pair?"

  Peace lifted her somber eyes from her self-appointed task and saidbriefly, "Yep--for Allee."

  "For Allee?" echoed astonished Cherry. "You told me yourself that shedidn't need any new shoes."

  "Well, I didn't think she did, but last night I 'xamined her only pairand they look awfully scrubby. There isn't any more blacking in thehouse, and the ink I sopped onto them made them worse than ever.Besides, I--it would look mean to get us some shoes and not any forher."

  Without another word, Cherry gathered up an armful of empty boxes anddropped down by a new row of vines, picking silently, ploddingly untilat last the third ten had been filled. Then she spoke, "Is this all, orare you going to earn shoes for Hope and Faith and Gail? Because theafternoon is pretty well gone and--"

  "Three pair of shoes is all I am going to pick," interrupted Peacesomewhat sharply, for she was hot and tired, and Cherry's tone seemed toimply criticism. "Help me tote these crates up to the house now andwe'll get our pay."

  Mr. Hartman met them as they tugged the second crate, only half filled,up to the berry shed, and the spirit of mischief suddenly tookpossession of the usually stern, business-like farmer.

  "So you have picked all you want to, have you? Well, I am surprised tothink you would give up so soon. Here, hand me that box! I want to seewhat kind of pickers you are." He hoisted the two crates to the cornerof the fence surrounding one of his brooding pens, and pretended toexamine each box critically, while the girls waited in anxious silencefor his word of approval. "Hm!" he said at last, trying to frown, andsucceeding so well that both little faces paled with misgiving. "Just asI expected! You don't know how to pick strawberries. You don't deserve acent of pay. How much were you to get? Five cents a box?"

  "Yes, sir," whispered Peace, with lips so dry they could hardly form thewords.

  "Well, I oughtn't to give you a penny, but I will be generous and liveup to my part of the bargain. Five cents a box, was it? And there aretwo boxes and a half of fruit."

  His eyes were twinkling, but this Peace failed to notice, and she criedindignantly, "There are _thirty_ boxes! We picked ten last night andtwenty today."

  "Oh, those little boxes! Five cents a big box, I meant. That would beten cents and half a nickel over; but I will be good and give youfifteen cents for your work." He drew three battered coins from hispocket and dropped them into Peace's damp, dirty hand.

  She drew in her breath sharply, stared at the money for a moment in dumbamazement, then let it fly with all her might straight at Mr. Hartman'shead, screaming in a frenzy of anger and disappointment, "Younumscullion of a cheat! Do you s'pose you will ever get to heaven? Thereare your old berries! You can hire your chickens to pick them up! I'llnever work for you again!" One shove of the crates, and the beautiful,tempting fruit lay in a scattered heap inside the chicken yard! AndPeace, blinded by the hot tears of rage, was flying for home withdismayed Cherry close at her heels.

  It was Mr. Hartman's turn to stare, and stare he did, first at thespoiled fruit and then at the flying girls, too stunned to understand.The hot blood mounted to his forehead, he shook his fist in unreasoninganger and yelled, "Drat your pesky hides! Come back here and I'll tanyou good! What do you mean by spoiling all that high-priced fruit? Oh,if I just had my hands on you now!"

  "You got only what you deserved, Dave Hartman," said a quiet voicebehind him, and he whirled angrily toward his wife, who had come uponthe scene unnoticed.

  "All I deserved! Twenty quarts of fruit spoiled! Four dollars' worth,Myra Ann!"

  "You should have been fair to the children and it never would havehappened. They have worked hard and earned their money."

  "Fair! I meant to be fair. I was just fooling with them. If she hadn'tbeen quicker'n greased lightning she would have got all that was comingto her."

  "How was she to know that? You looked so ferocious I don't wonder shetook you at your word. The best thing you can do now is to rescue thatfruit before the chickens have spoiled it entirely, and let me wash andcan it. Then you better go over and pay the children for their work."

  "Pay the children a dollar and a half for spoiling four dollars' worthof strawberries? Well, I should say not! They will never get anothercent out of me, no matter if they go barefooted all the rest of theirdays."