CHAPTER III.
A CHANCE FOR FLOSSY.
The vacation had come to an end, and next week the children were to goto school again. Florence counted up her small hoard; for though shedid not like to sweep, or wash dishes, she was industrious in otherways. She crocheted edgings and tidies, made lamp-mats, toilet-sets,and collars, and had earned sixteen dollars. Granny would not havetouched a penny of it for the world.
So Florence bought herself two pretty delaine dresses for winter wear,and begged Granny to let Miss Brown cut and fit them. Florence had apretty, slender figure; and she was rather vain of it. Her two dresseshad cost seven dollars, a pair of tolerably nice boots three and ahalf, a plaid shawl four, and then she had indulged in the great luxuryof a pair of kid gloves.
It had come about in this wise. Mrs. Day had purchased them in NewYork, but they proved too small for her daughter Julia. She was owingFlorence a dollar; so she said,--
"Now, if you have a mind to take these gloves, Florence, I'd let youhave them for seventy-five cents. I bought them very cheap: they aska dollar and a quarter in some stores;" and she held them up in theirmost tempting light.
Florence looked at them longingly.
"They are lovely kid, and such a beautiful color! Green is all thefashion, and you have a new green dress."
There was a pair of nice woollen gloves at the store for fifty cents;and although they were rather clumsy, still Florence felt they would bewarmer and more useful.
"I don't know as I can spare you the dollar now," continued Mrs. Day,giving the dainty little gloves a most aggravating stretch.
"I'd like to have them," said Florence hesitatingly.
"I suppose your grandmother won't mind? Your money is your own."
Now, Mrs. Day knew that it was wrong to tempt Florence; but the gloveswere useless to her, and she felt anxious to dispose of them.
"Grandmother said I might spend all my money for clothes," was therather proud reply.
"Kid gloves always look so genteel, and are so durable. You have such apretty hand too."
"I guess I will take them," Florence said faintly.
So Mrs. Day gave her the gloves and twenty-five cents. Florencecarried them home in secret triumph, and put them in _her_ drawer inGranny's big bureau. She had not told about them yet; and sometimesthey were a heavier burden than you would imagine so small a pair ofgloves could possibly be.
Joe had earned a little odd change from the farmers round, and boughthimself a pair of new trousers and a new pair of boots; while Hal hadbeen maid-of-all-work in doors, and head gardener out of doors.
"Just look at these potatoes!" he said in triumph to Granny. "There'sa splendid binful, and it'll last all winter. And there'll be cabbageand pumpkins and marrow-squash and Lima beans, and lots of corn for thechickens. The garden has been a success this summer."
"And you've worked early and late," returned Granny in tender triumph."There isn't such another boy in the State, I'll be bound!" And shegave him the fondest of smiles.
"But the best of all is Dot. She's actually getting fat, Granny; andshe has a dimple in her cheek. Why, she'll be almost as pretty asFlossy!"
Granny gave the little one a kiss.
"She's as good as a kitten when she is well," was the rejoinder, in aloving tone.
Kit and Charlie still romped like wild deers. They had made a cave inthe wood, and spent whole days there; but Charlie burned her fingersroasting a bird, and went back to potatoes and corn, that could be putin the ashes without so much risk.
The old plaid cloak had been made over for a school-dress, and Charliethought it quite grand. Kit and Hal had to do the best they could aboutclothes.
"Never mind me, Granny," Hal said cheerfully; though he couldn't helpthinking of his patched Sunday jacket, which was growing short in thesleeves for him.
So on Saturday the children scrubbed and scoured and swept, and madethe place quite shine again. Hal arranged the flowers, and then theyall drew a restful breath before the supper preparations began.
"There's Mrs. Van Wyck coming!" and Charlie flew up the lane, dashingheadlong into the house, to the imminent peril of her best dress, whichshe had been allowed to put on for an hour or two.
"Mrs. Van Wyck!"
Granny brushed back her bobbing flaxen curls, washed Dot's face overagain with the nearest white cloth, which happened to be Flossy's besthandkerchief that she had been doing up for Sunday.
"Oh!" the young lady cried in dismay, and then turned to make herprettiest courtesy. Mrs. Van Wyck was very well off indeed, and livedin quite a pretentious cottage,--villa she called it; but, as she had ahabit of confusing her V's and W's, Joe re-christened it the Van WyckWillow.
"Good-afternoon, Mrs. Kenneth. How d'y do, Florence?"
Florence brought out a chair, and, with the most polite air possible,invited her to be seated.
Mrs. Van Wyck eyed her sharply.
"'Pears to me you look quite fine," she said.
Florence wore a white dress that was pretty well outgrown, and hadbeen made from one of her mother's in the beginning. It had a good manylittle darns here and there, and she was wearing it for the last time.She had tied a blue ribbon in her curls, and pinned a tiny bouquet onher bosom. She looked very much dressed, but that was pretty Flossy'smisfortune.
Mrs. Van Wyck gathered up her silk gown,--a great staring brocade inblue and gold, that might have been her grandmother's, it looked soancient in style.
"I've come over on some business," she began, with an important air anda mysterious shake of the head.
Granny sat down, and took Dot upon her lap. Kit and Charlie peered outof their hiding-places, and Joe perched himself upon the window-sill.
"How do you ever manage with all this tribe?" And Mrs. Van Wyck gaveeach of them a scowl.
"There's a houseful," returned Granny, "but we _do_ get along."
"Tough scratching, I should say."
"And poor pickings the chickens might add, if they had _such_ an oldhen," commented Joe _soto voce_. "There'd be something worse thanclucking."
Hal couldn't help laughing. Mrs. Van Wyck was so ruffled and frilled,so full of ends of ribbon about the head and neck, that she did looklike a setting hen disturbed in the midst of her devotions.
"Them children haven't a bit of manners," declared Mrs. Van Wyck, insublime disregard of syntax. "Trot off, all of you but Florence: I havesomething to say to your grandmother."
Joe made a somerset out of the window, and placed himself in a goodlistening position; Hal went out and sat on the doorstep; and Charliecrawled under the table.
"I don't see how you manage to get along with such a houseful. I alwaysdid wonder at your taking 'em."
"Oh! we do pretty well," returned Granny cheerily.
"They're growing big enough to help themselves a little. Why don't youbind Joe out to some of the farmers. Such a great fellow ought to bedoing something besides racing round and getting into mischief."
Joe made a series of such polite evolutions, that Hal ran to the gateto have a good laugh without being heard.
"He's going to school," said Granny innocently. "They all begin onMonday."
"Going to school?" And Mrs. Van Wyck elevated her voice as if shethought them all deaf. "Why, _I_ never went to school a day after Iwas twelve year old, and my father was a well-to-do farmer. There's nosense in children having so much book-larnin'. It makes 'em proud andstuck up, and good for nothing.
"Oh! where's that dog? Put him out! Put him out! I can't bear dogs. Andthe poorer people are, the more dogs they'll keep."
Joe, the incorrigible, was quite a ventriloquist for his years andsize. He had just made a tremendous ki-yi, after the fashion of themost snarling terrier dog, and a kind of scrabbling as if the animalmight be under Mrs. Van Wyck's feet.
"Oh, my! Take the nasty brute away. Maybe he's full of fleas or has themange"--
"It is only Joe," explained Florence, as soon as she could put in aword.
"I'd Jo
e him, if I had him here! You're a ruining of these childrenas I've always said; and you may thank your stars if Joe escapes thegallows. I've positively come on an errand of mercy."
"Not for Joe," declared the owner of the name with a sagacious shake ofthe head, while Mrs. Van Wyck paused for breath.
"Yes. Not one of them'll be worth a penny if they go on this way. Now,here's Florence, growing up in idleness"--
"She keeps pretty busy," said Granny stoutly.
"Busy! Why, you've nothing for her to do. When I was a little girl,my mother made me sit beside her, and sew patchwork; and before I wastwelve year old I had finished four quilts. And she taught me thehymn,--
'Satan finds some mischief still For idle hands to do.'"
"They always learn a verse for Sunday," said Granny deprecatingly.
"But you let 'em run wild. I've seen it all along. I was a talkin' toMiss Porter about it; and says I, 'Now, I'll do one good deed;' and theLord knows it's needed."
Everybody listened. Joe from the outside made a pretence of picking hisears open with the handle of a broken saucepan.
"Florence is getting to be a big girl, and it's high time she learnedsomething. As I was a sayin' to Miss Porter, 'I want just such a girl;and it will be the making of Florence Kenneth to fall into good hands.'"
"But you don't mean"--and Granny paused, aghast.
"I mean to make the child useful in her day and generation. It'll be agood place for her."
Mrs. Van Wyck nodded her head until the bows and streamers flew inevery direction.
Granny opened her eyes wide in surprise.
"What do you want of her, Mrs. Van Wyck?"
Charlie peeped out from between the legs of the table to hear, hermouth wide open lest she should lose a word.
"Want of her?" screamed the visitor. "Why, to work, of course! I don'tkeep idle people about me, I can tell you. I want a girl to make beds,and sweep, and dust, and wash dishes, and scour knives, and scrub, andrun errands, and do little chores around. It'll be the making of her;and I'm willing to do the fair thing."
Granny was struck dumb with amazement. Florence could hardly credit herears. Hal sprang up indignantly, and Joe doubled his fists as if hewere about to demolish the old house along with Mrs. Van Wyck.
"Yes. I've considered the subject well. I always sleep on a thingbefore I tell a single soul. And, if Florence is a good smart girl,I'll give her seventy-five cents a week and her board. For six dollarsa month I could get a grown girl, who could do all my work."
Granny looked at Florence in helpless consternation; and Florencelooked at Granny with overwhelming disdain.
"Well! why don't you answer?" said the visitor. She had supposed theywould jump at the offer.
"I don't expect to go out doing housework, Mrs. Van Wyck," saidFlorence loftily.
"Hoity-toity! how grand we are! I've never been above doing my ownhousework; and I could buy and sell the whole bunch of you, a dozentimes over."
"Florence wouldn't like it, I'm afraid," said Granny mildly.
"A fine way to bring up children, truly! You may see the day whenyou'll be thankful to have a home as good as my kitchen."
There was a bright red spot in Florence's cheeks.
"Mrs. Van Wyck," Florence began in a quiet, ladylike manner, althoughshe felt inclined to be angry, "grandmother is right: I should not likeit. I have no taste for housework; and I can earn more than you offerto give by doing embroidering and crocheting. Through the six weeks ofvacation I earned sixteen dollars."
"Fancy work! What is the world coming to? Children brought up todespise good, honest employment."
"No, I don't despise it," amended Florence; "but I do not like it, andI think it a hard way of earning a little money. If I can do better, ofcourse I have the right."
Granny was amazed at the spirit Florence displayed.
"You'll all be paupers on the town yet, mark my words. Flaunting roundin white dresses and ribbons, and"--
She glanced around for some further vanity to include in her inventory.
"I am sure we are obliged to you," said Granny mildly. "But Florence"--
"Yes, Florence is too good to work. There's no sense in such high-flownnames. I'd have called her plain Peggy. She must curl her hair, anddress herself--oh my lady, if I had you, you'd see!"
And Mrs. Van Wyck arose in great wrath, her streamers flying wildly.
"You'll remember this when you come to beggary,--refusing a good homeand plenty. Your grandmother is a foolish old woman; and you're a lazy,shiftless, impudent set! I wash my hands of the whole lot."
"I'm sorry," began Granny.
"There's no use talking. I wouldn't have the girl on any account. I canget her betters any day. You'll come to no good end, I can tell you!"
With that, Mrs. Van Wyck flounced out; but at the first turn tumbledover Kit, who had rolled himself in a ball on the doorstep.
Down she went, and Joe set up a shout. Hal couldn't help laughing, andCharlie ran to pull out Kit.
"You good-for-nothing, beggarly wretches!"
While she was sputtering and scrambling about, Joe began a hideouscaterwauling.
"Drat that cat! Pity I hadn't broken his neck! And my second-bestbonnet!"
Kit hid himself in his grandmother's gown, sorely frightened, and alittle bruised.
"It's the last time I'll ever step inside of this place. Such an awfulset of children I never did see!"
To use Joe's expressive phraseology, she "slathered" right and left,her shrill voice adding to the confusion.
Granny watched the retreating figure with the utmost bewilderment.
"The mean old thing!" began Florence, half crying. "Why, I couldn'tstand her temper and her scolding, and to be a common kitchen-girl!"
"She meant well, dear. In my day girls thought it no disgrace to liveout."
"Wasn't it gay and festive, Granny? I believe I've burst every button,laughing; and you'll have to put a mustard plaster on my side to drawout the soreness. And oh, Kit, what a horrible yell you gave! How couldyou be the ruin of that second best bonnet?"
"'Twasn't me," said Kit, rubbing his eyes. "But she most squeezed thebreath out of me."
"Flossy, here is your fortune, and your coach-and-four. My dear child,I hope you will not be too much elated, for you must remember"--
"'Satan finds some mischief still,' &c."
Joe whisked around, holding Dot's apron at full length in imitation ofa streamer.
"I wonder if she really thought I would go. Scouring and scrubbing, andwashing dishes. I'd do with one meal a day first."
"She is a coarse, ill-bred woman," said Hal; "not a bit like Mrs.Kinsey."
"We will not be separated just yet," exclaimed Granny, with a sigh forthe time that must come.
"And I don't mean to live out," was the emphatic rejoinder of Florence.
"My dear, you mustn't be too proud," cautioned Granny.
"It isn't altogether pride. Why should I wash dishes when I can dosomething better?"
"That's the grit, Flossy. I'll bet on you!"
"O Joe! don't. I wish you would learn to be refined. Now, you see allMrs. Van Wyck's money cannot make her a lady."
Joe put on a solemn face; but the next moment declared that he mustkeep a sharp look out, or some old sea-captain would snap him up, andset him to scrubbing decks, and holystoning the cable.
And yet they felt quite grave when the fun was over. Their merryvacation had ended, and there was no telling what a year might bringforth.
"I think I should like most of all to be a school-teacher," Florencedeclared.
"You'll have to wait till you're forty. Who do you s'pose is going tomind a little gal?"
"Not you; for you never mind anybody," was the severe reply.
Florence felt quite grand on the following day, attired in her newgreen delaine, and her "lovely" gloves. Granny was so busy with theothers that she never noticed them; and Florence quieted her conscienceby thinking that the money
was her own, and she could do what she likedwith it. She kept self generally in view, it must be admitted.
Mrs. Van Wyck's overture was destined to make quite a stir. Sherepeated it to her neighbors in such glowing terms that it reallylooked like an offer to adopt Florence; and she declaimed bitterlyagainst the pride and the ingratitude of the whole Kenneth family.
Florence held her head loftily, and took great pains to contradict thestory; and Joe became the stoutest of champions, though he teased herat home.
"But it's too bad to have her tell everybody such falsehoods; and,after all, three dollars a month would be very low wages. Why, MaryConnor gets a dollar a week for tending Mrs. Hall's baby; and she neverscrubs or scours a thing!"
Truth to tell, Florence felt a good deal insulted.
But the whole five went to school pretty regularly. Hal was verystudious, and Florence also, in spite of her small vanities; but Joewas incorrigible everywhere.
Florence gained courage one day to ask Mr. Fielder about the prospectof becoming a teacher. She was ambitious, and desired some kind of aposition that would be ladylike.
"It's pretty hard work at first," he answered with a smile.
"But how long would I have to study?"
"Let me see--you are fourteen now: in three years you might be ableto take a situation. Public schools in the city are always better forgirls, for they can begin earlier in the primary department. A countryschool, you see, may have some troublesome urchins in it."
Florence sighed. Three years would be a long while to wait.
"I will give you all the assistance in my power," Mr. Fielder saidkindly. "And I may be able to hear of something that will be to youradvantage."
Florence thanked him, but somehow the prospect did not look brilliant.
Then she thought of dressmaking. Miss Brown had a pretty cottage,furnished very nicely indeed; and it was her boast that she did it allwith her own hands. She kept a servant, and dressed quite elegantly;and all the ladies round went to her in their carriages. Then she hadsuch beautiful pieces for cushions and wonderful bedquilts,--"ThoughI never take but the least snip of a dress," she would say with avirtuous sniff. "I have heard of people who kept a yard or two, but tomy mind it's downright stealing."
There was a drawback to this picture of serene contentment. Miss Brownwas an old maid, and Florence hoped devoutly that would never be herfate. And then Miss Skinner, who went out by the day, was single also.Was it the natural result of the employment?