Little Fishers: and Their Nets by Pansy

  CHAPTER VI.

  HOW IT SUCCEEDED.

  MRS. JOB SMITH leaned against the table in her bright kitchen, caughtup the edge of her apron in one hand, then leaned both hands on hersides, and thought. Jerry had been consulting her. Was there any wayof planning so that the front room in the Decker house could havea carpet? He repeated all Mrs. Decker said about a room not beinghome-like without one, and Mrs. Smith, at first inclined to combatthe idea, finally admitted that in winter a room where you sat downto visit, did look kind of desolate without a carpet, unless it wasa kitchen, and had a good-sized cook stove to brighten it up. Therewas no denying that that square front room would be the better for acarpet. At the same time there was no denying that the Deckers neededa hundred other things worse than they did a carpet. But the hearts ofthe boy and girl were bent on having one; and what the boy was benton, Mrs. Job Smith liked to have accomplished, and believed sooner orlater that it would be. The question was, How could she help to bringit about?

  "There's that roll of rag carpeting, bran-new," she said aloud; Mrs.Smith had spent a good deal of her time alone and had learned tohold long conversations with herself, arguing out questions as well,sometimes she thought better, than a second party could have done.At this point she put her hands on her sides. "There's enough of it,and more than enough. I had it made for the front room the year poorHannah died, and sent me that boughten carpet which just exactlyfitted, and is good for ten years' wear. That rag carpeting has beenrolled up and done up in tobacco and things ever since--most two years.Sarah Jane doesn't need it, and I don't know as I shall ever put iton the kitchen. I don't like a great heavy carpet in a kitchen, much,anyway; rugs, and square pieces that a body can take up and shake,are enough sight neater, to my way of thinking. But I can't afford togive away bran-new carpeting. To be sure it only cost me the warp andthe weaving; and I got the warp at a bargain, and old Mother Turnernever did ask me as much for weaving as she did other folks. The ragswas every one of them saved up. Poor Hannah used to send me a lot ofrags, and Sarah Jane and I sewed them at odd spells when we wouldn'thave been doing anything. It is a good deal of bother to take care ofit, and I'm always afraid the moths will get ahead of me, and eat itup. I might sell it to her for what the warp and the weaving cost me.But land! what would she pay with? I might give her a chance to doironing. I have to turn away fine ironing every week of my life becauseI can't do more than accommodate my old customers. Who knows but sheis a pretty good ironer? I might give her the coarse parts to iron,and watch her, and find out. Job is always at me to have somebody helpwith the big ironings, and I have always said I wouldn't have a girlbothering around, I would rather take less to do. But then, she is adecent quiet body, and that Nettie is just a little woman. She willhave to do something to help along if they ever get started in beingdecent; perhaps ironing is the thing for her, and I can start her ifshe knows how to do it. For the matter of that, I might teach herhow, if she wanted to learn. To be sure they need other things morethan carpets, but it wouldn't take her long to pay for this, if I justcharge for the weaving. I might throw in the warp, maybe, seeing I gotit at a bargain. The two are so bent on having a carpet for that room;and Jerry, he said he had prayed about it, and while he was on hisknees, it kind of seemed to him as though I was the one to get to thinkit out. That's queer now! Jerry don't know anything about the carpetrolled up in tobacco in the box in the garret; why should he think thatI could help? I feel almost bound to, somehow, after that. I don't liketo have Jerry disappointed, nor the little girl either, now that's afact. I take to that little Nettie amazingly. Well, I know what I'lldo. I'll talk with Job about it, and if he is agreed, maybe we will seewhat she says to it."

  This last was a kind of "make believe," and the good woman knew it; JobSmith thought that his wife was the wisest, most prudent, most capablewoman in the world, and besides being sure to agree to whatever she hadto propose, he was himself of such a nature that he would have givenaway unhesitatingly the very clothes he wore, if he thought somebodyelse needed them more than he. There was little need to fear that JobSmith would ever put a stumbling-block in the way of any benevolence.

  But who shall undertake to tell you how astonished Mrs. Decker waswhen Mrs. Smith, having duly considered, and talked with Sarah Jane,and talked with Job, and unrolled the tobacco-smelling carpet, andexamined it carefully, did finally come over to the Decker home withher startling proposition. It is true that a carpet had taken perhapsundue proportions in this poor woman's eyes. Her best room during allthe years of her past life had never been without a neat bright carpet;it had been the pleasant dream of her second married-life, so long asany pleasantness had been left to allow of dreaming; and she could notget away from the feeling that people who had not a scrap of carpetingfor their best room, were very low down. She opened her eyes verywide while listening to Mrs. Smith's rapidly told story. What kind ofa carpet could it be that was offered to her for simply the price ofthe weaving? for Job and his wife after some figuring with pencil andpaper, had agreed together heartily to throw in the warp. She wentover to the neat kitchen and examined the carpet. It was bright andpretty. There was a good deal of red in it, and there was a good dealof brown; a blending of the two colors which had been the subject ofmuch discussion between herself and husband in the days when Mr. Deckertalked anything about the comforts of his home. How well it would lookin the square room which had two windows, and was really the onlypleasant room in the house. Surely she could iron enough to pay forthat.

  "I am not very strong," she said with a sigh. "I used to be, but oflate I've been failing. But Nannie is so handy, and so willing, thatshe saves me a great deal, and she has a notion that she would like tofix up the front room and try to get hold of my Norm. It would be worthtrying, maybe, but I don't know. We are very low down, Mrs. Smith."

  And then Mrs. Decker sank into one of the green painted chairs andcried.

  "Of course it is worth trying," Mrs. Smith said, bustling about, asthough she must find some more windows to raise; tears always made herfeel as though she was choking. "If I were you I would have a carpet,and curtains to the windows, and lots of nice things, and make a homefit for that boy of yours to have a good time in. There is nothing likea nice pleasant home to keep a boy from going wrong."

  Before Mrs. Decker went home, she had promised to try the ironing thevery next week, and if she could do it well enough to suit Mrs. Smith,the carpet should be bought.

  "Poor thing!" said Mrs. Smith, looking after her, and rubbing her eyeswith the corner of her apron. "The ironing shall suit; if she ironswrinkles into the collars and creases in the cuffs, I won't say a word;only I guess maybe I won't give her collars and cuffs to iron; not tillshe learns how. I ought to have done something to kind of help heralong before; only I don't know what it would have been. It takes thatboy of mine to set folks to work."

  Meantime, "that boy" sat in the kitchen door, studying. Not from abook, but from his own puzzled thoughts. He did not see his way clear.Under Nettie's direction he had planned a very satisfactory sofa witha back to it, and two chairs, but how to get the material needed tofinish them, and also for curtains for the new room, had sent Nettiehome in bewilderment, and stranded him on the doorstep in the middleof the afternoon to think it out.

  "How much stuff does it take for curtains, anyhow?"

  "For curtains?" said Mrs. Smith, coming back with a start from herironing table and the plan she had for teaching Mrs. Decker to ironshirts. "Why, that depends on what kind of stuff it is, and how manycurtains you want, and how big the windows are."

  "Well, what do they use for curtains?"

  Mrs. Smith still looked bewildered.

  "A great many things, Jerry. They have lace curtains, and linen ones,and muslin ones, and in some of the rooms up at Mrs. Barlow's, on thehill, you know, when I helped her do up curtains that time, they hadgreat heavy silk things, or maybe velvet, though the stuff didn't lookmuch like either. I don't rightly know what it was, but it was heavy,and soft,
and satiny, and shone like gold, in some places."

  Jerry turned around on the doorstep and looked full at Mrs. Smith,and laughed. "I know," he said, "I have seen such curtains. They aredamask. I am not thinking about lace, and damask, and all that sort ofthing. I mean for Mrs. Decker's front room. What could be used thatwould do, and how much would they cost?"

  "Surely!" said Mrs. Smith, coming down to everyday life. "What a gooseI was. I might have known what you were thinking about. Why, let mesee. Cheese cloth makes real pretty curtains; if you have a bit ofbright calico to put over the top, and a nice hem in, or maybe somebright calico at the bottom to help them hang straight, I don't know asthere is anything much prettier. Though to be sure they aren't good formuch to keep people from looking in; and they aren't quite suitable forwinter. I suppose you want to plan for winter, too? I'll tell you whatit is, I believe that unbleached muslin makes about as pretty a curtainas a body could have; put bright red at the top and bottom, and theylook real nice."

  "What is unbleached muslin? I mean, how much does it cost?"

  "Why," said Mrs. Smith, dropping into her rocking-chair, and foldingher hands on her lap to give her mind fully to the important question,"as to that, I should have to think; I'm not very good at figures.Unbleached muslin costs about eight cents a yard, or maybe ten; we'llsay ten, because I've always noticed that was easier to calculate. Tencents a yard, and two windows, say two yards to each, and no, two yardsto each half, four yards to each, and twice four is eight, eight yardsat ten cents a yard. How much would that be, Jerry? You can tell in aminute, I dare say."

  "Eighty cents," said Jerry with a sigh. "I am afraid she will thinkthat is a great deal. And then there's the red to put on them. Whatdoes that cost?"

  "Why, that ought to be oil calico, because the other kind ain't fastcolors. I don't much believe you could get those curtains up short offifty cents apiece; and that is a good deal for curtains, that's afact. Paper ones don't cost so much, but then there's the rollers andthe fastenings, I don't know but they do cost just as much. And thenthey tear."

  "I don't want her to have paper ones," said Jerry decisively. "A dollarfor the curtains, and I don't know how much more for the furniture. Shecan't imagine where the money is to come from."

  "I could tell where it ought to come from," said Mrs. Smith, noddingher head and looking severe. "It ought to come out of Joe Decker'spocket. He makes his dollar a day, even now, when he doesn't half work;Job said so only last night. But furniture is dreadful dear stuff,Jerry, worse than curtains. And they need about everything. I never didsee such a desolate house! And those little girls need clothes."

  "Nettie is going to make them some clothes," said Jerry; "she has somethat she has outgrown; a great roll in her trunk; she is going to makethem over to fit the little girls. She is at work at some of themto-day. And you know, auntie, I am making the furniture."

  "Making it!"

  "Well, making its skeleton. If we had some clothes to put on it, Iguess it would be furniture. I've made a sofa, and two chairs, and I'mat work at a table. Only I would like to see how the things were goingto look, before I went any farther."

  "Making furniture!" repeated dazed Mrs. Smith; and she shook her head."I don't see how you can! You can do a great many things that no otherboy ever thought of; but I'm afraid that's beyond you."

  "Why, you see, auntie, she has seen some made, and she showed me whatto do with hammer and nails. You make a frame, just the size you wantfor a sofa, and put a back to it, then it is padded with cotton, andcovered with something bright, cretonne, I think she said they calledit, only it wasn't real cretonne, but a cheap imitation, and they tacka skirt to the thing in puckers, so," and he caught up a bit of Mrs.Smith's apron to illustrate.

  "I see," she said, nodding her head and speaking in an admiring tone."What a contriving little thing she is! And what about the chairs?"

  "The chairs are served in very much the same way. The table is justtwo flat boards and a post between them, nailed firmly, then they tackred calico, or blue, or whatever they want, around it, and cover itwith thin white cheese cloth or some lacey stuff, she had the name ofit, but I've forgotten; it doesn't cost much, she said, and tie a sasharound it, and it looks like an hour glass. The question is, where arethe cotton and calico to come from?"

  "Well," said Mrs. Smith, "you two do beat all! It can't take much stufffor a little table; and I can see that they might be real pretty. Iwant a table myself, to stand under the glass in my front room. What ifyou was to make two, and I'd get cloth enough for two, and she would domine and hers, to pay for the cloth?"

  Jerry sprang up from his doorstep, and came over and put both armsaround Mrs. Smith's trim waist.

  "Hurrah!" he said; "you are the contriver. That will do splendidly.I'll go this minute and set up the skeleton of another table. I havetwo boards there which will just do it. Then we'll think out a way toget the rest of the stuff."

  Now Nettie, busy with her fingers in the house next door, had not leftthe others to do all the thinking. She knew the price of "oil calico,"and imitation cretonne, and unbleached muslin; she knew to a fractionhow many yards of each would be needed, and the sum total appalled her.Yet she too knew that her father earned at least a dollar a day, anddid not give them two a week to live on. This her mother had told her.

  Also she knew that on this Saturday evening at about six o'clock, hewould probably be paid for his week's work. Couldn't she contrive tocoax some of the money from his keeping into hers? She had hinted thepossibility of her mother's getting hold of it, and Mrs. Decker hadsaid that the bare thought of trying made her feel faint and sick; thatif she had ever seen her father in a passion such as he could get intowhen things did not go just to suit him, she would know what it was toask him for anything. Nettie, who had not yet been at home a week, hadsome faint idea of what her father might do and say if he were veryangry. Nevertheless, she was trying to plan a way to meet him before heleft the shop, and secure some of that money if she could.

  With this thought in view, she presently laid aside the neat littlepetticoat on which she had been sewing, brushed her hair, put on herbrown ribboned hat, and her brown gloves, watched her chance while thechildren were quarreling over an apple that Jerry had given them, andstole out in the direction of the shop where her father worked. Shewould not ask Jerry to go with her, though he looked after her from thebarn window and wished she had; if her father was to grow angry andswear, and possibly strike, no one should know it but herself, if shecould help it.

  I must not forget to tell you of one thing that she did beforestarting. She went into her mother's little tucked-up bedroom, put anail over the door, which she had herself arranged for a fastening, andknelt there so long by the barrel which did duty as a table, that hermother, had she seen her, would have been frightened. But Nettie feltthat she needed courage for this undertaking; and she knew where to getit.

  Then she had to walk pretty fast; it was later than she thought, forjust as she turned the corner by the shop where her father worked, thesix o'clock bell began to ring.

  "Halloo!" said one of the men, standing in the door while he untiedhis leather apron. "What party is this coming down the street? Theneatest little woman I've seen for many a day. A stranger in this partof the world, I reckon. Doesn't fit in, somehow. Do you know who it is,Decker?"

  And Mr. Decker, thus appealed to, came to the door in time to receiveNettie's bow and smile.

  "That's my girl," he said, and a look of pride stole into his face.She was a trim little creature; it was rather pleasant to own her ashis daughter.

  "Your girl!" and the astonishment which the man felt was expressed by aslight whistle. "I want to know now if that is the little one who wentaway six, seven years ago, was it? She's as pretty a girl as I've seenin a year. Looks smart, too. I say, Decker, you better take good careof her. She is a girl to be proud of."

  At just that moment Nettie sprang up the steps.

  "May I come in, father?" she said; "I wante
d to see where you worked."Her voice was clear and sweet. All the men in the shop turned to look.The foreman who was paying Mr. Decker, and who had begun severely withthe sentence: "Two half-days off again, Decker; that sort of thingwon't"--stopped short at the sound of Nettie's voice, and gave himthe two two dollar bills, and two ones, without further words. Sixdollars! If only she could get part of it! How should the delicatematter be managed? Suddenly Nettie acted on the thought which came toher. What more natural than for a child to ask for money just then andthere? She needed it, and why not say it? Perhaps he would not liketo refuse her entirely before all the men. And poor Nettie had a verydisagreeable fear that he would certainly refuse her if she waiteduntil the men were gone; even if she found a chance to ask him beforehe reached the saloon just next door, where he spent so much of hismoney. Or at least where his wife thought he spent it.

  "May I have some of that, father? I want some money. That was one ofthe things I came after."

  This was certainly the truth. Why not treat it as a matter of course?"Why should I take it for granted that he is going to waste all hismoney?" said poor Nettie to herself. All the same she knew she had goodreason for supposing that he would.

  "Money!" he said, as he seized the bills. "What do you know aboutmoney, or want with it?"

  "Oh, I want things. The little girls must have some shoes. I promisedto see about it as soon as I could. And then I want to buy your Sundaydinner; a real nice one."

  The tone was a winning, coaxing one. Nettie did not know how to coax;was not very well acquainted with her father; did not know how he wouldendure coaxing of any sort, but some way must be tried, and this wasthe best one she knew of.

  "Divide with her, Decker," said the man who had first called hisattention to Nettie. "She looks as though she could buy a dinner, andcook it too. If I had a trim little girl like that to look out formy comfort, hang me if I wouldn't take pleasure in keeping her wellsupplied." He sighed as he spoke, and nobody laughed; for most of themremembered that the man's home was desolate. Wife and daughter bothburied only a few months before. This man sometimes spent his earningson beer, but he was accustomed to say that there was nobody left tocare; and that while he had them, he took care of them; which was true.Nettie looked up at the man with a curious pitiful interest. His tonewas very sad. She was grateful to him for his words. Was there possiblysomething sometime that she could do for him? She would remember hisface.

  All the men were looking now, and there was Nettie's outstretched hand.Her face a good deal flushed; but it wore an expectant look. She wasgoing to believe in her father as long as she could.

  "Go ahead, Joe, divide with the girl. Such a handsome one as that. Youought to be proud of the chance."

  "You have something worth taking care of, it seems, Decker." It was theforeman who said this, as he passed on his way to the other side of theroom where the men were waiting.

  Whether it was a father's pride, or a father's shame, or both thesemotives which moved Mr. Decker, I cannot say, but he actually took atwo and a one and placed them in her hands as he said hastily, "There,my girl, I've given you half; you can't complain of that."