Three Little Women: A Story for Girls

by Gabrielle E. Jackson

  CHAPTER XII

  Another Shoulder is Added

  Thanksgiving and Christmas had come and passed. Constance's "candybusiness" as she called it, throve and flourished spasmodically. Couldshe have carried out her wishes concerning it, the venture might havebeen more profitable, but Mammy, the autocrat, insisted that it shouldbe kept a secret, and the habit of obedience to the old woman'sdictates was deeply rooted in the Carruth family, even Mrs. Carruthyielding to it far more than she realized.

  So Constance made her candy during her free hours after school andMammy carried it into South Riveredge when opportunity offered. Thiswas sometimes twice, but more often only once, a week, for thefaithful old soul had manifold duties and was too conscientious toneglect one. Sometimes all the packages were sold off as quickly asthey had been on that first red-letter day, but at other times a goodmany were left over. Could they again have been offered for sale uponthe following day they might easily have been disposed of, but Mammycould not go to South Riveredge two days in succession and,consequently, the candy grew stale before another sale's day arrived,was a loss to its anxious manufacturer, and caused her profits toshrink very seriously. Things had been going on in this ratherunsatisfactory manner for about six weeks when one Saturday morninglittle Miss Paulina Pry, as Constance sometimes called Jean, owing toher propensity to get to the bottom of things in spite of all effortsto circumvent her, came into her sister's room to ask in the mostinnocent manner imaginable:

  "Connie, who does Mammy know in South Riveredge?"

  "Nobody, that I know of," answered Constance unsuspectingly.

  "I thought she had a cousin living there," was the next leader.

  "A cousin, child! Why Mammy hasn't a relative this side of Raleigh andI don't believe she has two to her name down there. If she has, shehasn't seen them since mother brought her north before we were born."

  "I knew it!" was the triumphant retort, "and _now_ I'll get even withher for telling me fibs."

  "Jean, what do you mean?" cried Constance now fully alive to the factthat she had fallen into a trap.

  "I mean just this: I've been watching Mammy drive off to SouthRiveredge every solitary week since before Thanksgiving, and I'veasked her ever so many times to take me with her; she lets me goeverywhere else with her and Baltie. But she wouldn't take me thereand when I asked her why not, she always said because she was going tovisit with her cousins in-the-Lord, and 'twan't no fit place for whitefolks. I _knew_ she was telling a fib, and _now_ I'm going right downstairs to tell her so," and Jean whirled about to run from the room.Constance made a wild dive and caught her by her sleeve.

  "Jean, stop! Listen to me. You are not to bother Mammy with questions.She has a perfect right to do or go as she chooses," said Constancewith some warmth, and instantly realized that she had taken the wrongtack, for the little pepper-pot began to liven up. Jerking herselffree she struck an attitude, saying:

  "You are just as bad as Mammy! _You_ know where she goes, and what shegoes for, but you won't tell me. Keep your old secrets if you want to,but I'll find out, see if I don't. And I'll get even too. You andMammy think I'm nothing but a baby, but you'll see. I'm most elevenyears old, and if I can't be told the truth about things now, I'd liketo know why," and with a final vigorous wrench Jean freed herself fromher sister's grasp and fled down the stairs, Constance murmuring toherself as the little whirlwind disappeared: "I wonder if it wouldn'tbe wiser to let her into the secret after all? In the first place itis all nonsense to _keep_ it a secret, and just one of Mammy'shigh-falutin ideas of what's right and proper for a Blairsdale.Fiddlesticks for the Blairsdales say I, when certain things should bedone. I'm going to tell that child anyway. She is ten times easier todeal with when she knows the truth, and she can keep a secret farbetter than some older people I might mention. Jean; Jean; come back;I want to tell you something."

  But Jean had gone beyond hearing. "Never mind; I'll tell herby-and-by," resolved Constance and soon forgot all about the matterwhile completing her English theme for Monday. Could she have followedher small sister her state of mind would have been less serene.

  Jean's first reconnoiter was the dining-room. All serene; nothingdoing; mother up in her room. Eleanor gone out. Mammy in the kitchenstirring quietly about. Jean slipped into the butler's pantry. Thereon a shelf stood a big white box marked "Lord & Taylor, Ladies' SuitDept." Jean's nose rose a degree higher in the air as she drew near itand carefully raised the lid. "Ah-hah! Didn't I know it! I guess hercousins-in-the-Lord must like candy pretty well, for she has takenthat box with her every single time she's gone to South Riveredge,"whispered this astute young person.

  Now it so happened that as Mammy had advanced in years, she had grownsomewhat hard of hearing, and had also developed a habit quite commonto her race; that of communing aloud with herself when alone.

  Jean was quite alive to this and more than once had caused the oldwoman to regard her with considerable awe by casually mentioning factsof which Mammy believed her to be entirely in ignorance, and, indeed,preferred she _should_ be, little guessing that her own monologues hadgiven the child her cue.

  Clambering softly upon the broad shelf which ran along one side of thepantry, Jean gently pushed back the sliding door made to pass thedishes to and from the kitchen, and watched Mammy's movements. Thekitchen was immaculate and Mammy was just preparing to set forth forher Saturday morning's marketing, a task she would not permit any oneelse to undertake, declaring that "dese hyer Norf butcher-men stoodready fer ter beat folks outen dey eyesight ef dey git er chance."

  As usual Mammy was indulging in a soliloquy.

  "Dar now. Dat's all fix an' right, an' de minit I gits back I kin clapit inter de oven," she murmured as she set her panfuls of bread overthe range for their second rising. "I gotter git all dis hyer wo'k offmy han's befo' free 'clock terday ef I gwine get ter Souf Riveredge intime fer ter sell all dat mes o' candy."

  Behind the window a small body's head gave a satisfied nod.

  "'Taint lak week days. De sto'es tu'n out mighty early on Sattidays.Hopes I kin sell eve'y bit and grain _dis_ time. I hates ter tote anyhome agin, an' dat chile tryin' so hard ter holp her ma."

  Over little Paulina Pry's face fell a shadow, and for a moment the bigeyes grew suspiciously bright. Then wounded pride caused them to flashas their owner whispered to herself, "She _might_ have told me thetruth."

  Then the kitchen door was shut, locked from the outside, and Mammydeparted.

  Jean got down from her perch and stood for a few moments in the middleof the pantry floor in deep meditation. Then raising her head with adetermined little nod she said under her breath, "_I'll_ show 'em."

  To hurry out to the hall closet where her everyday hat, coat andgloves were kept, took but a moment. In another she had put them on,and was on her way to the stable. To harness Baltie was somewhat of anundertaking, but by the aid of a box which raised her to the necessaryheight this was done, the old horse nickering softly and rubbing hishead against her as she proceeded.

  "Yes Baltie, dear. _You_ and _I_ have a secret now and _don't_ you_tell_ it. If _they_ think they are so smart, _we'll_ show them that_we_ can do something too."

  At length the harnessing was done, and slipping back to the house Jeanwent into the pantry, lifted up the box so plainly labeled "Ladies'Suits" and sped away to the stable where she placed it carefully uponthe bottom of the phaeton, tucking the carriage rug around and aboutit in such a manner that even the liveliest suspicion would havenothing to feed upon.

  Then opening the double doors she led Baltie through them, and out ofthe driveway to the side street on which it opened, and which couldnot be seen from the front of the house where the young lady knew hermother and sister to be at this critical moment. Only a second morewas needed to run back and close the stable doors and the gates, andall tracks were covered.

  In that immediate vicinity the queer turnout was well-known by thistime, so no curiosity was aroused by its appearance.

  As usu
al, Jean had not paused to mature her plans. Their inception wasenough for the time being; details could follow later.

  Plod, plod, fell Baltie's hoofs upon the macadamized street as Jeanguided him slowly along. The day was cold, but clear and crisp, withjust a hint of wind or snow from the mare's tails overhead in theblue.

  Jean had no very clear idea of what her next step would be, and wasrather trusting to fate to show her. Perhaps Baltie had a better onethan his driver, or perhaps it was sense of direction and force ofhabit which was heading him toward South Riveredge; Baltie'sintelligence did not appear to wane with his years. At all events, hewas going his usual route when Jean spied Mammy far ahead and in atrice fate had stepped in to give things a twist. To pull Baltiearound and guide him into a street which led to East instead of SouthRiveredge was the work of a second. Jean thought she could go back byanother street which led diagonally into South Riveredge but when shereached it she found it closed for repairs. Turning around involvedmore or less danger and she had a thought for that which lay at herfeet. So on she went, hoping to get into South Riveredge sooner orlater.

  Like many suburban towns, Riveredge had certain sections which weregiven over to the poorer element, and in such sections could always befound enough idle, mischievous youngsters to make things interestingfor other people, particularly on Saturdays when they were releasedfrom the restraint of school.

  Jean had proceeded well along upon her way when she was spied by twoor three urchins upon whose hands time was hanging rather heavily, andto whom the novel sight of a handsome, neatly-clad child, perched in aphaeton which might have been designed for Noah, and driving a blindhorse, was a vision of joy.

  "Hi, Billy, get on ter de swell rig," bawled one worthy son of McKim'sHollow.

  "Gee! Aint he a stunner! Say, where did yer git him?" yelled Billy,prompt to take up the ball, and give it a toss.

  "Mebbe he's de ghost av yer granfather's trotter," was the nextsalute.

  "Hi, what's his best time. Forty hours fer de mile?" asked a largerlad, hanging on to the back of the phaeton and winding his heels intothe springs.

  "Get down! Go away!" commanded Jean.

  "Couldn't," politely replied her passenger.

  "Say yer oughter have a white hawse wid all dat red hair," yelled anew addition to the number already swarming after her.

  "Git a move on," was the next cry, as a youth armed with a long stickjoined the crowd. Things were growing decidedly uncomfortable for Jeanwhose cheeks were blazing, and whose eyes were flashing ominously.Just then one urchin made a grab for the whip but she was too quickfor him, and once having it in her hand was tempted to lay aboutvigorously. As though divining her thoughts, the smaller boys drew offbut he of the stick scorned such an adversary, although discretionwarned him not to lay it upon her. The old horse, however, was not soguarded by law and the stick descended upon his flanks with all thestrength of the young rowdy's arms. He would better have struck Jean!

  Never since coming to live in his present home had Baltie felt a blow,but during all those four months had been petted, loved and cared forin a manner to make him forget former trials, and in spite of his age,renew his strength and spirits. True, he was never urged to do morethan jog, jog, jog along, but under the spur of this indignity some ofhis old fire sprung up and with a wild snort of resentment he plungedforward. As he did so, down came the whip across his assailant's head,for Jean had forgotten all else in her wrath; she began to lay abouther with vigor, and the battle was on in earnest.

  Perhaps John Gilpin cut a wilder dash yet it is doubtful.