Opening Day
At last the eventful morning arrived. Constance and Mammy were astir
long before the clock struck six, and the candy kettles were bubbling
merrily. Constance was pulling her big lump of molasses candy when
Jean came bounding into the kitchen arrayed in her little night toga.
"Bress my soul!" cried Mammy. "Wha' yo' doin' down hyer? Kite long
back dis minit. Does yer want ter kitch yo' deaf cold?"
"But Connie didn't call me, and I said I'd help," protested Jean.
"He'p! He'p! Yo' look lak yo' could he'p, don't yo'? stannin' dar
dressed in nuffin in de worl' but yo' nightie an' yo' _skin_. Clar out
dis minit befo' I smack yo' wid dis hyer gre't spoon," and Mammy made
a dive for the culprit as she darted away.
A few hours later the candy boxes were in the bottom of the phaeton,
Constance mounting guard over them while Mammy acted as Jehu.
When the Arcade was reached Mammy descended from the phaeton,
blanketed Baltie, and then taking one of the large boxes in which the
smaller ones were packed, said:
"Now honey, yo' tek anodder--_No, not two_ of 'em--dey's too heavy fo'
you; I'll come back fo' dose. Now walk 'long head ob me, kase I want
dese hyer folks what's a-starin' at us lak dey aint neber _is_ seen
anybody befo', ter unnerstan' dat I'se _yo' sarvint_, an' here fer ter
pertec' yo'. _An' I ain' gwine stan' no nonsense needer._"
"You need not be afraid Mammy. Everybody is just as kind and lovely as
possible."
"Huh! Dey'd _better_ be," retorted Mammy, with a warning snort.
In a short time the little booth made a brave showing with its
quarter-pound, half-pound, and pound boxes of candy, each tied with
pretty ribbon, and each bearing upon its cover the smiling face of its
young maker.
When Miss Willing found a chance to take a sly peep at them she turned
her head and sneered as she murmured: "Well, of all the conceit. My!
Ain't she just stuck on that face of hers though."
Scarcely was all arranged, when Mr. Porter appeared upon the scene.
"Just in time to be the first customer," he cried gayly. "How are you
this morning? How-de-do, Auntie? Ah, you see I know your partner now.
What all have you got here anyhow?" he continued as he peered into the
cases. "Pralines, plain fudge, nut fudge, molasses candy, cream
walnuts, caramels, butter-scotch. I say! You've been working, little
girl, haven't you?"
"Lak ter wo'k her finges mos' off," asserted Mammy.
"They're none of them missing, though," laughed Constance, holding up
the pretty tapering fingers to prove her words.
"Then give me my candies, quick! I can't wait another minute. You can
almost see my mouth water like my old hunting dog's."
"Which kind will you have Mr. Porter?"
"_All_ kinds of course!"
"Not really?"
"Yes, _really_. Do you think I'm going to miss any of the treat?
Biggest boxes, please."
Constance lifted from the case a pound box of each variety.
"How much?" asked Mr. Porter.
"Why nothing to _you_? How _could_ I?" she asked, coloring at the
thought of accepting more from him.
"Now see here, young lady, that won't do. You can't begin _that_ way.
Your business has got to be spot cash. Don't forget that, or you'll
get into difficulties," said her customer with a warning nod of his
head.
"As near as I can make out Mr. Porter, it's just the other way about;
I'm getting my cash in advance. Now please listen to me," said
Constance very seriously, an appealing look in her expressive eyes.
"You have done a great deal for me in arranging this booth so
attractively, and encouraging me in every way. In addition to that you
have 'taken stock,' as you call it, in the venture. Very well, _I_
call it simply advancing capital. Now I shall never feel at ease until
that sum is paid off, and one way for me to do it is to let you have
all the candy you want. No--wait a minute; I haven't finished," as Mr.
Porter raised his hand in protest. "If you will promise to come to the
booth for all the candy you want, I will charge you just the same for
it as I charge the others, but it must go toward canceling my
obligation _so far as money_ can cancel it. Now, _please_, say yes,
and make my opening day a very happy one for me. Otherwise I shall
have to refuse to let you have _any_ candy until I have paid back the
hundred dollars. Isn't that right and fair, Mammy?" she asked, turning
to look into the kind old face beside her.
"Hits jist de fa'r an' squar' livin' truf. Hit suah is, Massa Potah.
Ain' no gittin' roun' dat. We-all cyant tek no mo' 'vestments 'dout we
gibs somepin fer ter mak hit right. Miss Constance, know what she
a-sayin'."
The gay bandanna nodded vigorously to emphasize this statement.
Mr. Porter looked at them for a moment, and then broke into a hearty
laugh.
"I give it up!" he cried. "Have it your own way, but if I eat sweets
until I lose all my teeth, upon your heads be the blame. It isn't
every man who has a hundred dollars worth to pick from as he chooses."
"_You_ won't have very long, because I expect to pay back in more ways
than just candies," cried Constance, merrily.
"But you surely don't want _all_ that?" she added, laying her hands
upon the seven boxes lying upon the counter.
"Yes, I do! My soul, if she isn't trying to do me out of my own
purchases. Here, young lady, give me those boxes. I want them right in
my own hands before you have some new protest to put forth," and
hastily piling his seven pounds of candy upon his arm, Mr. Porter fled
for the elevator, leaving Mammy and Constance to laugh at his speedy
departure.
At length all was arranged, the booth with its array of dainty boxes
making a brave display.
Constance and Mammy stood for a moment looking at it before taking
their departure, well pleased with the result of their undertaking.
Then with a pleasant good morning to Miss Willing, whose eyes and ears
had been more than busy during the past hour, they departed, leaving
the little candy booth, its cash box, and its very unusual
announcement upon the sign which swung above it, to prove or disprove
the faith which one young girl felt in her fellow beings.