Mildred Keith - Complete 7 Book Collection. Finley Martha
way through the bushes toward the spot where the Keith children were seated.
They had sallow, sunburnt faces, tawny, yellow locks straggling over their shoulders, and their thin, lanky little forms were arrayed in calico dresses faded, worn and skimpy: pantalets of the same material but different color, appeared below their skirts. Their feet were bare, and on their heads were sunbonnets of pasteboard covered with still another pattern of calico both faded and soiled.
"Shall we ask them to come and join us?" queried Zillah.
"No; they don't look nice; they're dirty," whispered Cyril, with a glance of disgust directed toward the strangers.
"Maybe dey is hungry," suggested Fan, "let's dive 'em some fing out o' de basket."
"Good afternoon, little girls," said Zillah, raising her voice slightly as they drew near; "will you come and sit with us?"
They shook their heads but came creeping on, each with a finger in her mouth.
"Have you had your dinner?" An affirmative nod.
"I'm going to tell a story to these children, and if you like to come and listen too, you can. What are your names?"
"Mine's Emmaretta Lightcap, and hers is Minerva Lightcap. She's my sister, she is. Now go on and tell your story. Min, let's set down on the grass right here."
They listened in open-mouthed wonder till summoned by a shrill voice from the direction of the smithy, when they rose and scampered away.
The Keiths were a very domestic family; no place like home to them; and all, from the father down to little Fan, were heartily weary of the unsettled life they had led for some weeks past.
It was therefore with joy they found themselves once more able to sit down under their own vine and fig tree, (if a rented domicile so unsightly as "the yellow house on the corner" may fitly be compared to natural objects so full of beauty and grace).
By the evening of the second day the advanced stage of the internal improvements warranted them in taking possession.
As the shadows grew long the children were called in, the family gathered about a neatly appointed table set out in the centre one of the three lower rooms; spoken of indifferently as the sitting, or dining-room, since it must answer both purposes.
The meal was enlivened by cheerful chat, in which the children were allowed to take part; the only restriction being that but one voice was to be heard at a time; and that not in loud or boisterous tones.
No domestic had been found yet and leaving mother and aunt to chat with the father, Mildred and the younger girls cleared the table, washed the dishes and made all neat in the kitchen.
This done they returned to the sitting-room. The great family Bible lay open on the table before the father, a pile of hymn-books beside it. These last Rupert took up and distributed; the father read a few verses of Scripture and gave out a hymn. The mother's sweet voice set the tune, the others joined in and a full chorus of praise swelled upon the summer evening air.
It died away, and all knelt while the father offered a short but fervent prayer giving thanks for the mercies of the day, asking for protection through the night, confessing sins and pleading for pardon and eternal life, for all temporal and spiritual good, through the atoning blood of Christ.
It was thus each day was begun and ended in this truly Christian family. "As for me and my house we will serve the Lord," was the resolution with which Mr. and Mrs. Keith had begun their married life.
Each little one came to claim a good-night kiss from father and Aunt Wealthy, then cheerfully followed their mother up the steep crooked stairway to the large room above.
"Oh, how much nicer it looks!" they cried "Auntie's room too," running to the open door and peeping in.
Everything was now clean and neat, carpets covered the rough boards of the floor, curtains draped the windows and divided the large room into several apartments, in each of which was a neat, white bed.
But little of their heavy furniture had been brought with them from the old home, but its place was partially supplied by turning packing boxes into chintz-covered and cushioned lounges, and toilet tables, whose unsightliness was concealed by dainty drapery. Ingenuity and taste had done wonders in making the house comfortable and attractive at small expense.
Chapter Ninth.
"'Tis necessity,
To which the gods must yield."
The children had said their prayers, tired little heads were laid on soft white pillows, weary young limbs stretched out to rest, and leaving a kiss on each rosy mouth, the mother went down stairs to rejoin her husband and aunt in the sitting-room.
She found Mrs. Prior with them; the good woman had "just run in" to tell them of a girl in want of a place.
"I don't know anything about her," she went on, "except, that she's a right decent looking girl and wants to work out a spell; and that they tell me the family's English; respectable but poor.
"If you would wish to give her a trial; Mis' Keith, I've an opportunity to send her word this evening and as like as not she'd get a chance to come in with some of the country folks to-morrow."
Mrs. Keith gladly gave consent, feeling at the moment as if almost any sort of help would be better than none; then asked, "Is there any school in town that you could recommend for my little girls, Mrs. Prior?"
"Well, I don't know of but one and I've my doubts about that bein' such as you'd want to send to. Damaris Drybread's the teacher, and I shouldn't judge by her talk that she'd had a finished education;—not by no means! still she may do well enough for little ones. I haven't any, you know, so I haven't tried her."
"Suppose we have a light," suggested Mr. Keith, "it's growing too dark for us to see each other's faces."
Mildred rose, went to the kitchen, and presently returned with a lighted candle and a pair of snuffers, which she placed on the table.
Miss Stanhope was asking what sort of society was to be found in the place, to which Mrs. Prior made answer,
"Well, ma'am, we have pretty much all sorts; and yet don't divide up in circles like they do in a good many places. I s'pose there'll be more of that as the town grows larger.
"There's educated folks that's fond o' books and the like, and know what manners is, and how to talk well, and there's others that's rough and ignorant, yet mostly well meaning with it all—real honest and industrious.
"There are very few thieves, if any; folks leave their doors unlocked—sometimes wide open at night, and their clothes hanging out on the line; and I never hear of anything bein' took. There's very little drinking either; a drunken man's a rare sight with us."
"There are a good many New Englanders here, are there not?" inquired Mr. Keith.
"Yes, quite a good many; and from York state and Pennsylvany and Virginia; from Jersey too; I hail from there myself.
"But I must be going, it's gettin' late; evenins is so short this time o' year—and however it may be with Mr. Keith, I know you women folks are tired enough to be ready for bed.
"Now don't be formal with me, but run in whenever you can. I'll always be glad to see you.
"No, never mind your hat, Mr. Keith, I don't want a beau; for I'm not the least mite afraid. Good-night to you all," and she hurried away.
The candle was flaring and wasting in the wind. Miss Stanhope hastened to snuff it, remarking, "These are miserable tallows; get me some candle to-morrow, Stuart, and I'll try to make some that will be an improvement upon them. We have the moulds and the wick; all we want is the tallow."
Near noon of the next day a flauntily dressed young woman walked in at the open