WORKING FOR THE FAIR
"I do," said Meg, turning around on the piano bench. "You have tables,
and on 'em things to sell, and everybody comes. Where could we have
the fair, Mother?"
"I think here in the house," answered Mother Blossom thoughtfully. "We
live near enough to the center of town for people to get here easily."
"But how do you have a fair?" persisted Bobby. "Where do we get things
to sell? Can we do it all ourselves?"
"Certainly you can," declared Father Blossom. "You want the money to
be your own gift, so you boys and girls must do the work. We older
folk will help with advice. Mother can tell you all about it. Her
church society gives two fairs every year."
Mother Blossom smiled as Bobby looked at her expectantly.
"You want to know how we do it?" she asked. "Well, first we choose our
committees and plan the tables. There is usually a refreshment table;
a table for fancy work, aprons, bags, and pretty handkerchiefs; if the
fair is held in summer, we have a flower table; then a grab-bag table
for the little people. After we plan how many tables we will have, the
committees set out to collect the things to be sold. They go to the
baker and ask for cake donations; and to ladies and ask them to bake
cakes; they ask other ladies to make aprons and bags; Mr. Barber, the
grocer, usually gives us something for the canned goods table. You
see, the idea is to ask people to give all these things and then
whatever they are sold for can go outright to the purpose for which the
fair is held."
"Like new carpets for the church," put in Meg wisely.
"Yes, new carpets for the church, or new books for the Sunday-school
library," agreed Mother Blossom. "Your fair will be for the Jordans,
and the money you raise will help them through the winter."
Bobby was silent a long time, puzzling over the idea of a fair. Before
his bed hour came he had decided that perhaps that was the best way to
raise money, and anyway he would talk it over with the boys at school.
"I've been thinking," announced Mother Blossom at the breakfast table
the next morning. "As our living-room isn't very large, I think three
tables will be all we can comfortably arrange. As an extra attraction
for the fair, why don't you give a little play?"
"A stuffed animal play," suggested Aunt Polly mysteriously. "If the
children like the idea, don't you say another word. I'll make the
costumes and drill them."
A stuffed animal play and a fair sounded delightfully exciting, and
when Bobby mentioned his plans to a group of close friends at recess he
found them most responsive.
"There's nothing much to do 'round now," said Palmer Davis. "I'm dead
tired coasting every day. I'd like to help Mrs. Jordan."
Mrs. Jordan was an old woman who lived in a tumbled-down house. She
had a crippled son, and had supported herself, since the death of her
husband, by going out to work by the day. As she had always worked
faithfully and never complained, Oak Hill people really did not know
that this winter she had had a hard time to get enough to eat and coal
enough to burn. Her son was unable to earn anything, and Miss Mason,
for whom Mrs. Jordan washed, had thought that it would be a kindness to
put him in a home where he would be well taken care of at no expense to
his mother.
"I'll not hear of it!" declared Mrs. Jordan angrily, when the teacher
mentioned this plan to her. "He's going to live at home with me as
long as I have a roof to cover us."
Miss Mason, who, like many kind-hearted people, did not like her well
meant offers to be refused, had told Mrs. Jordan plainly that she was
ungrateful, and that she need not bother to come for the wash any more.
So the poor old woman, who counted on this dollar and a half weekly,
was deprived of that money. In Oak Hill so many housewives did their
own work that there was not a great deal of extra work to be had.
Two or three of the boys backed out when Bobby explained that they must
ask people for the things to be sold at their fair. But enough
promised to go with him after school that afternoon to make it worth
while to go on with the planning.
"Aunt Polly and Mother and Norah have promised to fix the 'freshment
table," explained Bobby. "We're going to sell ice-cream and lemonade
and cake. And Meg and Dot and the girls are going to get the things
for the fancy work table. So we only have to get enough for one table."
"What kind of table?" asked Bertrand Ashe practically.
"All kinds I guess," returned Bobby. "Let's go to all the stores.
And, oh, yes, we're going to rehearse the stuffed animal play to-night.
Aunt Polly says as many as can, come over to our house."
After school that afternoon Bobby and his committee started out to get
the things to sell at their fair. Now, no one likes to ask for things,
perhaps, but Father Blossom had explained that it was very different
when one is asking for something for some one else and not for one's
own gain or pleasure.
"When you go into a store, remember that you are doing something for
poor Paul Jordan and think bow you would feel if you were poor and
lame," he had said to Bobby. "When you ask Mr. Barber for something
from his shelves you're not asking for Bobby Blossom, but for Paul.
That will make asking easy for you."
The first store the boys went into was the hardware store. Mr. Gobert,
the proprietor, came forward when he saw the six boys.
"Want your skates sharpened?" he asked cheerfully.
The committee looked hopefully at Bobby. He had promised to "ask
first."
"We're going to have a fair," gulped Bobby, his cheeks red, but his
blue eyes looking at Mr. Gobert squarely. "It's for Paul Jordan and
his mother. And we thought maybe you'd give us something we could
sell."
"For that lame Jordan and his mother?" repeated Mr. Gobert. "Do you
mean to tell me they need help? Is Mrs. Jordan sick?"
"She has rheumatism in her hands," said Bobby earnestly. "And she's so
old and slow lots of folks don't have her wash any more. She's chopped
down all the fence to build a fire with. And she doesn't want to put
Paul in a home."
"Well, well," Mr. Gobert stared at Bobby thoughtfully. "So you're
going to help her out by giving a fair, are you? Where's it going to
be? Can I come?"
"At our house. Three weeks from Saturday," answered Bobby, wishing his
committee would back him up with a few words and not stand by with
their mouths and eyes so wide open. "We're going to have a play, too."
"I'm busy Saturday afternoons," said Mr. Gobert regretfully, "but I'll
send Mrs. Gobert up to buy something. Now I wonder what I have you
would like? How about a couple of nice penknives?"
Bobby thought knives would be very good indeed, and Mr. Gobert led them
over to the case where all the penknives were displayed and let the
boys choose any two they wanted. On his advice they chose a
pearl-handled knife for a woman and a stag-handle which would please a
boy or a man.
"Stop in at Hampton's," said Mr. Gobert when they thanked him warmly,
the knives neatly wrapped and safe in Bobby's reefer pocket. "He ought
to have something nice for you."
Mr. Hampton kept the stationery store, and when he heard about the fair
he promptly gave the committee two boxes of writing paper, a pad of
bright new blotters, and a bottle each of red, white, and blue ink.
"To be patriotic," he said.
"They all want to know what it's for, then they're all right," said
Bobby, as the boys hurried along to another shop. "Talking takes a lot
of time, though."
The boys were really surprised to find how interested people were, and
how generous. The grocer gave them six glasses of bright red jelly
which, he said, would make their table look pretty as well as sell
readily. The baker promised them a plate of tarts the morning of the
fair. Steve Broadwell, the druggist, and a special friend of Bobby's,
not only gave them three fascinating little weather-houses, with an old
man and woman to pop in and out as it rained or the sun shone, and two
jars of library paste, but told Bobby that he would save some bottles
of cologne for Meg's table. The jeweler gave them four small
compasses. Even kind Doctor Maynard, whom they met driving his car out
toward the country, when he learned what they were doing, promised them
a dollar as his admission to the fair "whether I get a chance to come
or not."
"I'll bet we had better luck than the girls," boasted Palmer, as they
started for their homes. "And we have more places to go to next week.
What kind of play is it going to be, Bobby? Can we all be in it?"
"Aunt Polly said as many as wanted to could," replied Bobby. "She
calls it a stuffed animal play. I don't know what that is, but Aunt
Polly is lots of fun."
The boys promised to be over "right after supper," and Bobby ran in to
find his family and tell them his afternoon experiences. He had to
wait a few moments, because Meg and Dot were busy telling what had
happened to them.
"We've got ever so many things," bubbled Meg enthusiastically. "The
drygoods store gave us yards of ribbon; and Miss Stebbins said she had
six pin-cushions she didn't want." (Miss Stebbins kept a small
fancy-work store in the town.) "We saw Miss Florence, and she is going
to dress two dolls for us. And we've got belt buckles, and sachets,
and bags, and aprons, and, oh, ever so many things."
"Mr. Broadwell says to tell you he is saving some cologne for you,"
reported Bobby. "Say, isn't getting ready for a fair fun? And the
boys are coming over to-night to see about the play, Aunt Polly."
"I'm all ready for you," said Aunt Polly capably.