CHAPTER XI
First Ventures
"Did you get all the things, Mammy?" cried Constance, as she flew intothe kitchen where Mammy stood puffing and panting like a grampus, forthe new home was at the top of a rather steep ascent and the climbtook the old woman's breath.
"Co'se Ise got 'em," panted Mammy, as she untied the strings of herbright purple worsted hood. "Dar dey is, all ob 'em, eve'y one, an yo'kin git busy jes' as fas' as yo's a mind ter. But, la, honey, don' yo'let yo' _ma_ know nothin' 'tall 'bout it, 'cause she lak 'nough frailme out fer lettin' yo' do hit. But sumpin 's gotter be done in disyere fambly. What wid de rint fer _dis_ place, an' de taxes for deyether, an' de prices dey's teken' ter chargin', fer t'ings ter _eat_,I 'clar' ter goodness dar ain't gwine be nuffin 'tall lef' fer we-allter fall back on ef we done teken sick, er bleeged ter do sumpin'extra," ended Mammy as she bustled about putting away her things anduntying the packages as Constance lifted them from the basket.
"Yes, you've got every single thing I need, Mammy, and now I'll beginright off. Which kettles and pans can you spare for my very own? Idon't want to bother to ask every time and if I have my own set at thevery beginning that saves bother in the end," cried Constance, as sheslipped her arms through the shoulder straps of a big gingham apronand after many contortions succeeded in buttoning it back of hershoulders.
"Dar you is!" said Mammy, taking from their hooks, above her range twoimmaculate porcelain saucepans, and standing them upon thewell-scrubbed kitchen table with enough emphasis to give the transfersignificance. "Dey's yours fer keeps, but don' yo' let me ketch yo'burnin' de bottoms of 'em."
Mammy could not resist this authoritative warning. Then bustlingacross to her pantry she took out three shining pans and placed thembeside the saucepans, asking:
"Now is yo' fixed wid all de impert'nances ob de bisness?"
"All but the fire, Mammy," laughed Constance, rolling up her sleevesto disclose two strong, well-rounded arms.
"Well yo' fire's gwine ter be gas _dis_ time, chile'. Yo' kin do whatyo's a-mind ter wid dat little gas refrig'rator, what yo' turns on an'off wid de spiggots; _I_ aint got er mite er use fer hit. It lak terscare me mos' ter deaf de fust mawnin' I done try ter cook de breckfuson it,--sputterin' an' roarin' lak it gwine blow de hull house up.No-siree, I ain' gwine be pestered wid no sich doin's 's _dat_. Stovesan' wood 's good 'nough fer _dis_ 'oman," asserted Mammy with anempathic wag of her head, for she had never before seen a gas range,and was not in favor of innovations.
"Then I'm in luck," cried Constance, as she struck a match to light upher "gas refrigerator," Mammy meanwhile eying her with not a littlemisgiving, and standing as far as possible from the fearsome thing."Tek keer, honey! Yo' don' know what dem new-fangled mak'-believestoves lak ter do. Fust t'ing yo' know it bus' wide open mebbe."
"Don't be scared, Mammy. They are all right, and safe as can be if youknow how to handle them, and lots less trouble than the stove."
"Dat may be too," was Mammy's skeptical reply. "But _I'll_ tek detrouble stidder de chance of a busted haid."
Before long the odor of boiling sugar filled the little kitchen, theconfectioner growing warm and rosy as she wielded a huge wooden spoonin the boiling contents of her saucepans, and whistled like a songthrush. Constance Carruth's whistle had always been a marvel to themembers of her family, and the subject of much comment to the fewoutsiders who had been fortunate enough to hear it, occasionally, forit was well worth hearing. It had a wonderful flute-like quality, withthe softest, tenderest, low notes. Moreover, she whistled without anyapparent effort, or the ordinary distortion of the mouth whichwhistling generally involves. The position of her lips seemed scarcelyaltered while the soft sounds fell from them. But she was very shyabout her "one accomplishment," as she laughingly called it, and couldrarely be induced to whistle for others, though she seldom workedwithout filling the house with that birdlike melody. As she grew moreand more absorbed with her candy-making the clear, sweet notes rosehigher and higher, their rapid _crescendo_ and increasing _tempo_indicating her successful progress toward a desired end.
While apparently engaged in preparing a panful of apples, Mammy wascovertly watching her, for, next to her baby, Jean, Constance wasMammy's pet.
When the candy was done, Constance poured it into the pans.
"Now in just about two jiffies that will be ready to cut. Keep one eyeon it, won't you Mammy, while I run up-stairs for my paraffin paper,"she said, as she set the pans outside to cool and whisked from thekitchen, Mammy saying under her breath as she vanished:
"If folks could once hear dat chile _whis'le_ dey'd hanker fef terhear it agin, an' dey'd keep on a hankerin' twell dey'd _done_ hit.She beat der bu'ds, an' dat's a fac'."
"Now I guess I can cut it," cried Constance, as she came hurryingback.
The sudden chill of the keen November air had made the candy the exactconsistency for cutting into little squares, and in the course of thenext half hour they were all cut, carefully wrapped in bits ofparaffin paper and neatly tied in small white paper packages withbaby-ribbon of different colors. Four dozen as inviting parcels ofdelicious home-made candy as any one could desire, and all made anddone up within an hour and a half.
"There, Mammy! What do you think of _that_ for my initial venture?"asked Constance, looking with not a little satisfaction upon thepackages as they lay in the large flat box into which she hadcarefully packed them.
"Bate yo' dey hits de markit spang on de haid," chuckled Mammy. "An'now _I'se_ gwine tek holt. La, ain' I gwine cut a dash, dough! Yo' see_me_," and hastily donning her hood and shawl, and catching up anapple from her panful, off Mammy hurried to the little stable whichstood in one corner of the small grounds, where Baltie had lived, andcertainly flourished since the family came to dwell in this new home.
Mammy never entered that stable without some tidbit for her pet, forshe had grown to love the blind old horse as well as Jean did, and wassecretly consumed with pride at his transformation. As she entered thestable, Baltie greeted her with his soft nicker.
"Yas, honey, Mammy's comin'; comin' wid yo' lolly-pop, kase she wantyo' ter step out spry. Yo's gwine enter a pa'tner-ship, yo' know_dat_, Baltie-hawse? Yo' sure _is_. Yo's de silen' pa'tner, yo' is,an' de bline one too. Jis as well ter hab one ob 'em bline mebbe," andMammy chuckled delightedly at her own joke. "Now come 'long out an' behitched up, kase we's gwine inter business, yo' an' me' an' we gotterdo some hustlin'. Come 'long," and opening the door of the box-stallin which old Baltie now-a-days luxuriated, Mammy dragged him forth byhis forelock and in less time than one could have believed itpossible, had him harnessed to the old-fashioned basket phaeton whichduring Mrs. Stuyvesant's early married life had been a most up-to-dateequipage, but which now looked as odd and antiquated as the old horseharnessed to it. But in Mammy's eyes they were tangible riches, forHadyn Stuyvesant had presented her with both phaeton and harness.
Opening wide the stable doors, Mammy clambered into her chariot, andtaking up the reins, guided her steed gently forward. Baltie ambledsedately up to the back door where Constance was waiting to hand Mammythe box.
"Mind de do' an' don' let my apples bake all ter cinders," warnedMammy.
"I will. I won't. Good luck," contradicted Constance, as she ran backinto the house, and Mammy drove off toward South Riveredge; a sectionof the town as completely given over to commercial interests asRiveredge proper was to its homes. There a large carpet factory throveand flourished giving employment to many hands. There, also, stood alarge building called the Central Arcade in which many business menhad their offices. It was about a mile from the heart of Riveredgeproper and as Mammy jogged along toward her destination, she had ampletime to think, and chuckle to herself at her astuteness in carryingout her own ideas of the fitness of things while apparently fullyconcurring with Constance's wishes. Mammy had no objections toConstance _making_ all the candy she chose to make; that could be donewithin the privacy of her own home and shock _no_ one's sensibilities.But when the gir
l had announced her intention of going among herfriends to secure customers, Mammy had descended upon her with all herpowers of opposition. The outcome had been the present compromise.Very few people in South Riveredge knew the Carruths or Mammy, andthis was exactly what the old woman wished.
Driving her "gallumping" steed to the very heart of the busy town shedrew up at the curbstone in front of the Arcade just a few momentsbefore the five o'clock whistles blew. Stepping from her vehicle sheplaced a campstool upon the sidewalk beside it, and lifting her box ofcandy from the seat established herself upon her stool with the openbox upon her lap. Within two minutes of the blowing of the whistlesthe streets were alive with people who came hurrying from thebuildings on every side. Mammy was a novelty and like most noveltiestook at once, so presently she was doing a thriving business, hertongue going as fast as her packages of candy. People are not unlikesheep; where one leads, all the others follow.
"Home-made candy, sah! Fresh f'om de home-kitchen; jis done mek hit.Ain' hardly col'. Ten cents a package, sah. Yes _sah_, yo' better isbleeve hit's deleshus. Yo' ain' tas' no pralines lak dem in all yo'bo'n days," ran on Mammy handing out her packages of candy anddropping her dimes into the little bag at her side.
"Here, Aunty, give me four of those packages of fudge," cried agenial, gray-haired, portly old gentleman with a military bearing."Porter, here, has just given me some of his and they're simply great!Did you make 'em? They touch the spot."
"La, suh, I ain' _got_ four left: I ain', fer a fac'. Tek some of depralines; deys mighty good, suh," bustled Mammy, offering herdainties.
"Take all you've got. Did _you_ make 'em?" persisted her customer.
"My _pa'tner_ done mak 'em," said Mammy with dignity, as she handedover her last package.
"Well you darkies _can_ cook," cried the gentleman as he took thecandy.
For a moment it seemed as though Mammy were about to fly at him, andher customer was not a little astounded at the transformation whichcame over her old face. Then he concluded that the term "darkie" hadbeen the rock on which they had split, and smiled as he said:
"Better set up business right here in the Arcade. Buy you and your_partner_ out every day. Good-bye, Auntie."
"Good-bye, suh! Good-bye," responded Mammy, her equanimity quiterestored, for her good sense told her that no reflections had beencast upon her "pa'tner" in Riveredge, or her identity suspected.Moreover, her late customer had put a new idea into her wise old headwhich she turned over again and again as she drove back home.
Constance was waiting with the lantern, and hurried out to the stableas Mammy turned in at the gate.
"Oh, Mammy, did you _sell_ some?" she asked eagerly.
"Sell some! What I done druv dar fer? Co'se I sell some; I sell eve'ylas' bit an' grain. Tek dat bag an' go count yo' riches, honey. _Sellsome!_ Yah! Yah!" laughed Mammy as she descended from her chariot andbegan to unharness her steed, while Constance hugged the bag andhurried into the house.
"What are you hiding under your cape?" demanded Jean as her sister ranthrough the hall, and up the stairs. Jean's eyes did not often missanything.
"My deed to future wealth and greatness," answered Constance merrily,as she slipped into her room and locked the door, where she dumped thecontents of the bag, dimes, nickels, and pennies, into the middle ofthe bed.
"Merciful sakes! Who would have believed it?" she gasped. "Fourdollars and eighty cents for one afternoon's work, and at leastthree-eighty of it clear profit, and Mammy has _got_ to share some ofit. Mumsie, dear, I think I can keep the family's feet covered at allevents," she concluded in an ecstatic whisper.