TISSUE-PAPER HATS
Blame it all on those tissue-paper hats; the surprise and horror of
good Mrs. Ramsey when she beheld Alene Dawson among that madcap crowd,
skipping along gaily intent on her play, unobserving the pained
expression of the portly lady who was coming up the other side of the
street. Mrs. Ramsey had stopped suddenly, "so flustrated by the
sight," as she said later, that she had not the strength to hail Alene
and when her breath came it was too late, the happy crowd had passed
from sight around the corner leading to the fields, and her feeble,
"Why, Alene Dawson, I'll tell your Uncle about this!" sounded no
farther than her own ears.
Panting with indignation and the heat of the day, she resumed her way
up the steep street and in due time reached her home, a showy, buff
brick house with fancy turrets and pointed roofs and tiny windows with
wooden ornamentations, that gave warning of the interior, where none of
the rooms was of good size or well proportioned. Most of the space on
the first floor was taken by the reception hall which was not often
used and the whole gave the impression of being built to show off the
hall, of which its owner was very proud.
She was also very proud of her two daughters, Hermione and Vera, whom
she found on this occasion sitting in the study, a tiny alcove on the
second story, which overlooked the garden. They were apparently deep
in the mysteries of a French grammar which Vera had seized on hearing
the click of the gate announcing Mrs. Ramsey's return, while Hermione
busied herself in hiding under the cushion of her chair two borrowed
books of fairy tales which their mother had denounced and forbidden and
banned and would have burned with a zeal like to that which animated
the burners of the witches.
"When I was your age I never cared for reading. I knew most books were
lies from beginning to end. You couldn't hire me to read about goblins
and witches," she often declared.
"What a dull, tiresome girl mamma must have been," said Vera in a low
aside.
"But she didn't have to play exercises on the piano!" returned Hermione.
"No, nor try to _parlez vous_ with a gibbering foreigner."
"I don't see any use for foreign babbling. As the nurse in the French
tale says to the little girl who is studying English, 'Since the _bon
dieu_ wrote the Bible in French, it shows that he thought it good
enough for anybody,'" said Hermione, laughing, and Vera continued,
"Grandpa was too poor to pay for extras, I guess."
"I almost wish we could say the same of Pa Ramsey, only I'd hate to be
poor--I don't see how poor people can stand it!"
"Oh, they are used to it. They don't mind it," returned Vera with a
yawn.
"Tissue-paper hats!" they cried when their fond parent, sinking on a
lounge, had recovered sufficient breath to relate her adventure;
"Tissue-paper hats!"
Hermione's thoughts flew to her own room where, reposing in a box, was
her best hat, a huge affair of fine white straw, with ribbons and
flowers galore, whose glories made Alene's headgear appear the more
offensive. She was wishing she had been along with Alene, wearing her
own hat, of course, until her mother went on to say:
"That wasn't the worst of it! What can Frederick Dawson mean to allow
Alene to associate with the town children!"
"Town children, mamma! Do you mean from the poorhouse?"
"No, Miss Density, mamma means that Lee girl and Ivy Bonner and--"
"Oh, them! They go to our room! That Bonner girl is awfully bright
but so sarcastic, and Laura Lee is all right!"
Mrs. Ramsey shook her head.
"This comes of the public schools, where the president's child is made
to rub shoulders with the miner's!"
"And the miner's child often beats him in his lessons and the rest of
the scholars are apt to remark and remember it," said Hermione. "Only
for that, the rich boys could pose as being extra smart!"
"I should have got you girls a governess only papa said he couldn't
possibly afford it, as times are dull; when the children are grown it's
embarrassing to know how to meet their former schoolmates!"
"Nothing easier! Just turn your shoulder or look straight ahead!"
Vera stood up, and, using a chair to represent the offending party,
illustrated her remarks with appropriate gestures.
"Yes, but the girls aren't like that chair. They wouldn't be sat upon
so easily!" exclaimed Hermione.
"They would understand the next time unless they were unusually dense,"
retorted Vera.
Hermione laughed.
"I can imagine I see you trying to cut Ivy Bonner that way! She would
toss up her head and give you the 'icy stare'. As for Laura, she
wouldn't understand; she'd only think it a pity you were so
near-sighted!"
"Well, girls, don't get to quarreling," interrupted their mother.
"I'll make it a point to warn Alene's uncle. I'm sure her mother would
have collapsed had she been in my place to-day! I'm afraid the Dawsons
will be vexed because I've not had her over here to get better
acquainted with you girls!"
"You have asked her often enough, dear knows, and she never came, yet
she seems very intimate with those other girls!" commented Hermione.
"I admire her taste," said Vera. "It's all because her mother's not
here to look after her. Some men are queer. Very likely her uncle
never sees the difference between those town girls and others!"
"Well, what difference is there, except that Ivy and Laura are more
clever than the average?"
"Hermione, you talk like a--a socialist! The barriers between the
classes must be preserved, especially in these times when education is
trying to sweep them away! Else where would we land?"
"We, the royal family," muttered Hermione in an aside to Vera. "Don't
you remember Grandpa Green's prize pigs?"
Vera pretended not to hear, and their mother, taking breath, continued,
"There's no use talking, girls, those children are not in the Dawson
set! The idea of wearing tissue-paper hats on the street in broad
daylight!" So saying, she sailed from the room and the hidden books
were promptly brought forth and the interrupted reading resumed.