Whatever puns, good or bad, Betty might make on this unaccustomed
adventure of hers, she was more accustomed to the little
responsibilities that fall to the eldest child in a normal family than
only children could be; and these in a measure had prepared her for this
trip. As soon as they were settled in their seats, it all seemed natural
enough. Proper conduct in public was a matter of natural pride with this
family, with the possible exception of Amy Louise, who had not reached
the age of entire self control! Dick was hoping that she would not do
anything to embarrass them, for she sometimes howled when she could not
do what she wanted to do.
Betty, across the aisle from Dick and Doris, gave Dick an understanding
look and a smile when he gave Doris the seat next to the window. Dick
appeared not to notice this, but he felt that he was a pretty good
protector of the girls when necessary. Betty need not think that she was
the only one who could do things. And Betty was thinking that Dick was
going to be a great help. The worst would be changing cars at the first
city.
Clutching the tickets, Betty had them ready when the conductor came
along. He lived in their town and knew her father. It had been a blow to
the little town when a railroad line took off all but one passenger
train each way, with a few freight trains.
“Oh, yes,” cheerily said the conductor, “you’re going away for good now.
Your father told me to look after you when you came along.” The tickets
were being punched and given back to Betty.
“Don’t lose your tickets and you’ll be all right. No you don’t change
stations. Anything you want to know you can ask about at the window
marked ‘information.’ But outside you’ll find the train notices, and a
light come on when the train is in. When you get off, you’d better get a
red‐cap to take your bags up for you.”
Betty had a hazy notion of what was meant, though she had visited the
city where they were to change cars, it was very different, however, to
follow some one else without noticing how it was managed. She determined
to keep her eyes open on future trips. Well, there was no use in
worrying, but she wasn’t going to trust the bags to any porter. They
could carry what they had. Also, they would stay together, as Aunt Jo
had advised, with no expeditions here and there while they waited for
their second train. In this case ignorance was not bliss, for what would
have been perfectly simple to an experienced traveler was a matter for
serious consideration to Betty.
Fortunately, Amy Lou was angelic. Fascinated by the kaleidoscope of
scenery, she watched it happily; and when they left the train she
willingly clung to Betty’s hand, saying, “I don’t want to get losted, do
I?” She nearly went to sleep in the station during their long wait, but
Dick came to the rescue with some entertainment, just as Betty was
having visions of having to carry a heavy Amy Lou to the train.
At last they were established on the right train for the city for which,
they were bound and Betty breathed a sigh of relief. Nothing but a wreck
could keep them from home now, she told Dick.
“‘Home!’” repeated Dick, pursing his lips.
“Well,” argued Doris, “Betty’s right. It’ll be home, even if we’ve never
seen it.”
“Wherever Mother and Father are, it’s home, isn’t it?” and Betty’s
dimples showed as she spoke.
“You win,” grinned Dick, suggesting that Aunt Jo’s lunch be served.
They all did their best, but the last hours were trying after little
naps were over and time was dragging for them all, unaccustomed as they
were to long train rides. When they were feeling that they could not
stand it any longer and Amy Lou was beginning to be fractious, they drew
into the suburbs of the “city of our dreams,” as Doris sarcastically
remarked. But interest revived and Dick told the youngest sister to
watch for the place where they would find their mother. It was a happy
suggestion, particularly for Betty, who was thinking that patience would
cease to be a virtue pretty soon, if she had to keep the child in check
much longer.
At last the crowds were in the aisles. The train stopped with its
accustomed jerk. The tiresome day was almost over.
Which way should they go? The direction of the crowd settled that
question for them, but where would they find Father? They avoided little
baggage trucks that ran about and looked like hand‐cars off the track.
Here were iron gates where Dick, at Betty’s suggestion, inquired the way
to the waiting room, where they found “Information” again. By this time
Betty was worried. Where could her father be?
For the sake of the rest, she made herself keep calm and cheerful and
Dick suggested that it was not easy to get around in a city. Probably
they would be there pretty soon.
“I hope they know the train we’re coming on,” said Doris. “I _told_ you,
Betty, that we ought to telegraph.”
“_They_ told _us_ the day and the train, Doris,” firmly said Betty. But
Betty looked apprehensively at some of the people in the room. There was
a much better room upstairs, but Betty did not know that and there was
no one to tell her.
Finally Amy Lou began to cry. That was the last straw. Betty hunted for
what addresses she had and made her way again to “Information.” She
wondered if she had enough money to pay for a taxi. And did you pay for
everyone, or was it some other way? Dick was scouting around outside
now. He could find out things. Boys always could.
Then all at once darkness changed to light, figuratively speaking.
Before she had made an inquiry, she heard a squeal from Amy Lou and
turned to see if Doris were having trouble with her. But it had been a
happy squeal, not a cross one. There was Father, with his baby in his
arms and Doris holding to one hand! A very thankful girl ran back to her
family.
“I’m so sorry, Betty,” said Mr. Lee, “that you have had this wait and
worry. I had expected to meet you right at the train and take you to our
own car. Come on. We’ll talk after we get started. It was an important
business conference and I could not leave early. Then traffic was heavy
and it was farther to the station from our office that I thought. That
was all.”
Watching for trucks, street‐cars and machines of all sorts, they made
their way to where the new car was parked. Exclamations of delight
pleased Mr. Lee. Dick wanted to know all about it. It was not of a
highly expensive make, but as their father said, it would hold them all.
“I almost need a smaller one, too,” said he, explaining, “though I’m not
on the sales end of affairs. They’ve done me the honor to put me among
the executives, kiddies, and ask me to tell how I managed to do so well
in my little factory. I told the president, that it was nothing, only
quality of goods and good management; but he had me discuss products and
management at this conference.”
“Good for you, Pop!” said Dick.
“But I’m going to ask you all to help me, children. To make this change
and to live in a city is going to draw heavily on what I had saved. In
fact, there isn’t any too much left, except some property in the home
town. So don’t get any big ideas of what we can do here in the way of
living like some of the people you will see.”
“Aren’t there any folks just like us, Papa?” asked Doris, rather
bewildered. They had started now and slowly Mr. Lee was driving the car,
up a hill and behind an immense truck.
“Plenty of them, Doris, and thousands not half so well off.”
The children were now too much interested in their surroundings to ask
questions. Their father explained a little about some of the streets
through which they passed, and pointed out some of the buildings, though
he was not yet familiar with the city and was compelled to keep to
well‐known thoroughfares on his way out to the suburb where they were to
live. “This is what they call ‘downtown,’” said he. “When your mother
and I considered locations near we found nothing suitable. So we are out
where we can have a few flowers in the yard at least.”
Betty looked with “all her eyes,” as she said. Streams of cars filled
the streets. Her father watched the lights carefully and was prepared to
get out of the way when a reckless driver shot in front of him, almost
shaving a street car. “Hey, you!” exclaimed Dick, but the man could not
hear. “Why, if you hadn’t swerved to the right that fellow would have
hit us!”
“Yes, Dick. He was either intoxicated, or just reckless. There are many
such in the city.”
But in spite of what tired Betty considered several narrow escapes, they
successfully reached the suburb desired, where rows of houses, some of
brick, some of frame, some of stone, had a bit of yard in front and
behind; and on the porch of one there stood a slender and familiar
figure.
“Mamma!” cried Amy Lou, wiggling down from between Betty and Doris. But
Betty kept a stout hold upon her little sister until the car stopped in
front. “I’ll let you girls out here,” said Mr. Lee, “but Dick may come
with me to the garage.”
Amy Louise flew to her mother, while the other two girls walked briskly
up the short distance from the barberry hedge to the porch. The house
was of brick, well‐built and attractive. “Why, this is real nice,
Mother!” exclaimed Betty, the last to be embraced, but as warmly
welcomed. Betty was trying to remember to call her parents Father and
Mother, since some one had told her it was more dignified.
They entered a hall of fair size, then a large front room with a big
window in it, the piano in the right spot, a fireplace–why, it would be
home after all! Familiar rugs and furniture met Betty’s eyes. Of them
her last view had been what Betty called “ghastly,” all done up ready to
be moved in that horrid truck. But the “horrid truck” had brought them
unmarred to their present position. Here were all of their treasures–and
each other.
“I don’t believe, after all, Mother,” said she, looking around, “that
_walls_ make so, so _much_ difference!”
“Not with our own pictures on them,” replied Mother, understanding. “I
wish that all you could have helped me decide where to put things; but
if you girls think of any good changes, we shall make them.”
“Did you have a very dreadful time to find a place?” asked Doris.
“It was not easy. An apartment house did not seem to be the best place
for children. This is not one of the most modern houses, but there are
enough bedrooms, hard to find, and something of a kitchen. I could not
imagine myself cooking for this family in some of the tiny kitchenettes
we saw. We shall be comfortable, I think.
“We have the whole first floor. It is just a big house made into two
apartments or flats. Only two people are above us. There are two
furnaces and we have our own gas and electricity. We are to look after
the yard. Running the lawn mower will be Dick’s job.” Mrs. Lee looked
teasingly at Dick as she spoke.
“I thought I’d get out of that in a city,” returned Dick; but he did not
seem to mind the proposition very much. He was still thinking of the new
car, though he had been content to leave more detailed examinations
until the next day. “The thing that’s most like home,” continued Dick,
“is that good smell of cooking in an oven somewhere. Is it a roast,
Mother? Yes, and I smell cookies!”
“Right, son,” and Mrs. Lee led the way to the kitchen, where cookies
still warm from the baking were to be nibbled by hungry travelers. They
would still have things to eat in the city!
Still further investigation disclosed a “den,” which had become a
sleeping room for Dick; a dressing room off the main bedroom, making a
safe and cosy place for Amy Lou’s bed, and a good bedroom for Doris and
Betty. A large bathroom was at the end of the hall. “You haven’t any
idea, children, how thankful I was to find this, with enough room, all
on one floor, and nice and clean, with new plumbing!”
Betty looked thoughtfully at her mother. It was new to her to think
about homes, which, so far as she had ever thought, grew upon bushes.
And that rent was terrible. Wouldn’t it take more than Papa earned? Her
mother assured her that it would not, but remarked that the increase in
income did not amount to as much as they had supposed, because of
increased expenses.
“Let’s go back,” said Betty, reacting to her first lesson in economic
lines. But she was laughing.
“You know you wouldn’t do it for anything, Betty Lee,” cried Doris. “I’m
just as glad as I can be. Won’t it be great to go to all these wonderful
places?” This was after their mother had suddenly left them in their
room, to answer a call from her husband.
“Yes,” sighed Betty, “but now listen, Doris–please don’t begin by
throwing your things all around. We’ve a big closet, anyhow; but do
let’s keep things straight as we can!”
“You can, if you want to. I’m getting into my bathrobe the quickest I
can,” and Doris kicked a shoe under the bed.
“I suppose you are tired,” and Betty sighed again. “I don’t really care,
either. It’s certainly good to pass Amy Lou over to Mother.”
“She could have been worse coming down, but I’m glad I’m not the oldest.
She always gets stubborn when _I_ try to do anything with her.”
Betty felt like telling Doris that she did not try the right way; but
did not want to start further argument and realized that her own
disposition was not in its best state after her day of being “chief
boss,” as Dick had put it several times. Doris might take her hot bath
first. Then it would be tub for her and bed as soon as possible after
supper, which would be called dinner now, Mother said. Happily it was
the week‐end. There would be Saturday and Sunday for getting settled,
seeing the city and hearing church music of the best. Then would come
Monday and school. What a vista for Betty Lee! The future, though
unknown, was enticing.