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JERRY'S REWARD
[Illustration: "THEY NEVER SAW THE OLD FELLOW WITHOUT
SHOUTING." (_See page 21_)]
Cosy Corner Series
JERRY'S
REWARD
By
Evelyn Snead Barnett
_Illustrated by_
Etheldred B. Barry
_Boston_
_L. C. Page & Company_
1903
_Copyright, 1900, 1901_
By E. S. BARNETT
_Copyright, 1902_
By L. C. PAGE & COMPANY
(INCORPORATED)
_All rights reserved_
Published, May, 1902
Colonial Press
Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co.
Boston, Mass., U. S. A.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. THE INTERRUPTED GAME 11
II. THE SHADOW 16
III. PADDY AND PEGGY 22
IV. HARD TIMES 28
V. PEGGY OVERHEARS A STARTLING CONVERSATION 35
VI. THE POLICE ARE SUMMONED 41
VII. WHERE WAS PEGGY? 49
VIII. LUCK IN DISGUISE 58
IX. PADDY MAKES THE EFFORT OF HIS LIFE 66
ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
"THEY NEVER SAW THE OLD FELLOW WITHOUT
SHOUTING" (_See page 21_) _Frontispiece_
"THEY STOOD IN A LONG ROW" 13
"HE TURNED AROUND SUDDENLY" 19
"'THE TOP OF THE MORNIN' TO YE'" 24
"ALL THE CHILDREN EXCEPT THE BABIES
STARTED FOR SCHOOL" 29
"ALTHOUGH SHE WAS WARMLY CLAD, THE RUSH
OF COLD AIR MADE HER SHIVER" 39
"'WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING HERE ALONE?'" 44
"A STURDY LEG EMERGING FROM HIS FRONT WINDOW" 53
"AROUND HIS TANNED AND WRINKLED NECK
WENT HER WHITE ARMS" 64
"AFTER THEM FOLLOWED THE NURSES, CARRYING
THE BABIES" 73
JERRY'S REWARD
* * * * *
CHAPTER I.
THE INTERRUPTED GAME
Jefferson Square was a short street in Gaminsville, occupying just one
block. It took only two things on one side of it to fill up the space
from corner to corner. One was the Convent of the Good Shepherd, built
on a large lot surrounded by a high brick wall; the other, a common
where all the people around dumped cinders, rags, tin cans--in fact,
anything on earth they wished to throw away. On the other side were
dwelling-houses, and these were filled with children--lots of them.
There surely were never so many children on one square before!
There were the Earlys, the Rickersons, the Bakers, the Adamses, the
Mortons, and the Longs--twenty-one in all.
There were really twenty-eight; but the parents of seven children,
though they were not what you might call poor, were not well-born like
the others, so nobody counted them any more than they included them in
the games that the twenty-one played. This was sad for the seven little
outcasts, but the others never thought about that.
The twenty-one had splendid times together. It was play, play, play for
ever--dolls, pin fairs, circuses, and games. Every afternoon they
gathered in the Mortons' front gate, because it was wider and had three
stone steps leading down from it, where all the children could sit.
One evening, the latter part of August, the sun had dipped down behind
the world, leaving red splashes over a green sky. On seeing it the
children played fast and furiously, for they knew only too well that
when the sky looked like that they might at any moment be called
indoors, made to eat their suppers and go to bed.
[Illustration]
The oldest child of the lot was Henry Clay Morton. He was one of those
boys who try to have their way in everything, and generally succeed; so,
on this particular evening when he got tired playing "Grammammy Gray"
and proposed "Lost My Handkerchief," the others consented without any
fuss. The next thing to decide was who should be "ole man." They stood
in a long row, and Henry Clay, pointing, began at the top and gave each
child a word like this:
"Eeny, meany, miny, mo;
Cracky, feeny, finy fo;
Ommer neutcha, popper teucha;
Rick, bick, ban, do.
"Oner-ry, oer-ry, ickery Ann;
Phyllis and Phollis and Nicholas John;
Queevy quavy, English Navy,
Stinklum, stanklum, BUCK."
"Buck" was "ole man," and on this occasion happened to be Addison
Gravison Rickerson, a little pudgy boy who was called "Addy Gravvy"
for short. He took a handkerchief, and the children, joining hands,
formed a big circle. Then skipping behind them he sang:
"Lost my hankshuff yesterday,
Found it to-day,
Filled it full 'er water,
En dashed it away."
He sang the words twice, and then he let the handkerchief fall behind
little Nell Morton, but she was watching, so she grabbed it and chased
Addy Gravvy, trying to catch him before he could get round the circle
into her place. He ran so fast he would have beaten her had not Willie
Baker stuck out his foot, tripping him up so that little Nell easily
caught him.
Addy Gravvy protested: "That's no fair, I won't go in the middle." For
whoever got caught had to go in the middle until the close of the game.
"She is so little," explained Willie, "that she never could have caught
anybody."
"Then she oughtn't to play," said Addy Gravvy.
At this the children all began talking at once, for Nell was a
favourite, and matters were looking serious, when suddenly a shadow
crossed the bar of light made by the Mortons' open front door.
"Paddy!" "Paddy!" cried a dozen frightened ones, and the little group
took to their heels.
In two minutes the street was as silent as midnight, the only person
left being a little old man whose back was bent almost double. He
turned and looked after the children and gave a long, deep sigh.