When Mary Rose ran up to get Jenny Lind young Mrs. Johnson met her at
the door and smiled pleasantly.
"You're the little girl for the canary?" she said. "I was
wondering--Mother Johnson seems to have taken a fancy to you--and I
wondered if you would go out for a little walk with her every morning.
I'll pay you ten cents a day."
Mary Rose's eyes popped open. In Mifflin little girls were expected to
do what they were asked to do and were never paid for such tasks.
"Why, of course, I'd be glad to," she said promptly.
"That will be splendid. You see she won't go by herself and I have my
own engagements. The doctor said she must have some exercise," sighed
Mrs. Johnson, as if the doctor had made a most unreasonable demand.
"Suppose you come up tomorrow about eleven? That will give you time
for a good walk before lunch."
"I'll soon be making money enough to send for Solomon," Mary Rose told
Mrs. Donovan, her voice trembling with excitement. "There's ten cents
a day from Grandma Johnson and ten cents from Mrs. Bracken for washing
the breakfast dishes and a quarter from Miss Thorley. Why, Aunt Kate,
I never thought there was so much money in the world as what I'm going
to earn by myself!"
Aunt Kate laughed as she hugged her. "There's no one in the house can
be cross to her," she told Uncle Larry proudly.
Promptly at eleven o'clock the next morning Mary Rose was waiting for
Mother Johnson who grumbled and fussed before she could be persuaded to
take the walk the doctor had recommended. But, once outside, the sky
was so blue, the air so pleasant, and Mary Rose so sociable that her
face grew less peevish.
"Where shall we go?" Mary Rose paused at the corner. "You see I'm a
stranger here. In Mifflin I knew the way everywhere. Aunt Kate said
there was a little park over this street. Perhaps it would be pleasant
there?"
Mother Johnson said grumpily that it made little difference to her, all
she wanted was to have her walk over and be home again.
"But you'll feel better after your exercise," promised Mary Rose. "I
should think you'd love to be outdoors. Your home is very pretty, but
it isn't like the outdoors, you know. Did you ever see the sky so
blue? It looks as if it was made out of the very silk that was in Miss
Lucy Miller's bridesmaid's dress. It was the most beautiful dress Miss
Lena Carlson ever made. Miss Lena goes out sewing for a dollar and a
half a day." And she described the wedding at which Miss Lucy Miller
had worn the frock made by the dollar and a half a day seamstress with
an enthusiasm that was undimmed by Mother Johnson's lack of interest.
From the wedding and Miss Lucy it was but a step to other Mifflin
happenings. They found themselves in the park before they knew it.
"It's something like the cemetery in Mifflin," Mary Rose said after she
had looked about. "Of course, there aren't any graves but there is a
monument and seats. Do you want to sit down? Oh, do look, grandma!
Do look," and she pulled the black sleeve beside her.
Since she had come to Waloo Mother Johnson had not been called grandma
and she had missed the grandchildren she had left behind more than she
realized. Mary Rose had called most of the older women in Mifflin
grandma--Grandma Robinson and Grandma Smith. It was a friendly little
custom that was in vogue there and so she had unhesitatingly called old
Mrs. Johnson grandma. Mrs. Johnson was so surprised that she had
nothing to say when Mary Rose pulled her to a bench and pointed a
trembling finger at a little brownish-grayish animal which stood up in
the grass and looked at them with bright eyes.
"Do you see what that is?" Mary Rose's voice shook. "It's a squirrel!
A really truly squirrel in this big city! Here, squirrelly,
squirrelly," she snapped her fingers. "I wish I had something to feed
you!" despairingly as the squirrel ran away.
[Illustration: "'It's a squirrel! A really truly squirrel in this big
city!'"]
Grandma Johnson had her purse in the bag she carried and she opened it
and took out five cents. "Here," she said crossly, "go and get
something to feed him with if that's what you're crying for."
Mary Rose straightened herself and threw her arms around Grandma
Johnson's knees. "Why--why!" she gasped, "I do think you are a regular
fairy godmother!"
Grandma Johnson had been called several names since she had been in the
Washington. Once she had heard Hilda in the kitchen speak of her as
"the old hen" and had almost had apoplexy. And Larry Donovan had
muttered that she was "an old crank" which was what one might expect of
a mannerless janitor but no one had ever called her a fairy godmother.
It sounded rather pleasant. She actually smiled as Mary Rose ran over
to the popcorn wagon on the corner and came back with a bag of peanuts.
"What wouldn't I give if Tom had a girl like that!" she sighed. "But
then he'd have to move. Children aren't allowed in the Washington."
Mary Rose insisted on an exact division of the nuts. "You want to feed
them just as much as I do." She hadn't a doubt of that. "So you must
have half. When the squirrel sees how many we have perhaps he'll bring
his brothers and sisters and have a squirrel party," she giggled.
Indeed, it did seem as if the squirrel had sent out invitations when he
saw the heap of nuts that Mary Rose and Grandma Johnson had beside them
for, one after another, other squirrels came until half a dozen
clustered around them. They were very tame. One even climbed up Mary
Rose's arm for the nut she held between her lips and Grandma Johnson
lured another to her shoulder.
"Aren't they ducks?" Mary Rose demanded. A red poppy blossomed in each
of her cheeks and her eyes were lit with candles. "I do believe the
Lord sent them here to be pets for people who live in houses where
there's a law against dogs and cats and children. I think it was--it
was wonderful in Him! Don't you? Shall we come every day and feed
them? Then they'll really get acquainted with us and we'll be friends.
Oh, I'm so glad that I know you--that we know each other!" She threw
her arms around the startled Grandma Johnson and gave her another hug.
They met Mrs. Schuneman on the steps when they went home and Mary Rose
had to stop and tell her the wonderful news, that the Lord had put pets
in the park for people who couldn't have them in their homes. She
introduced Grandma Johnson and Mrs. Schuneman, who had looked at each
other furtively when they had met in the halls but who had never spoken
until now.
"It's just as well not to make friends with the people who live in the
same apartment house you do," young Mrs. Johnson had told Grandma when
she came to make her home with her son. "You can't tell who they are."
"You can tell they are human beings," Mother Johnson had muttered but
that was not enough for her daughter-in-law and the older woman had
been too depressed by the strangeness of everything about her to make
friends for herself.
She even hesitated now when Mary Rose's inquiry after the health of
Germania brought an invitation to step in and see how much at home
Germania was. But in Mary Rose's opinion one could not refuse such an
invitation and she drew Grandma Johnson in to admire and to exclaim
over Germania, who did seem very contented. They had a very pleasant
little visit and Mrs. Schuneman eagerly asked them both to come again.
Mother Johnson gathered courage to say she would, she'd be glad to.
"Haven't we had a gorgeous time?" Mary Rose asked as they went up the
stairs. "I think it's very kind of you to let me go walking with you.
I'm so glad the doctor said you needed exercise."
And Grandma Johnson smiled and patted the small shoulder. There was
not a trace of the old peevishness on her face which was like a
withered apple. "I don't know but I'm glad, too, Mary Rose. I'll see
you tomorrow."
"You certainly will. Won't the squirrels be glad to see us? Good-by."
She ran down the stairs with the ten cents in her hand. The coin
dropped on the landing and rolled away. She was looking for it when
Mr. Wells came up and almost walked over her. Mary Rose was on her
feet in a flash.
"Good morning," she said politely. "I'm looking for the dime I
dropped. I earned it walking with Grandma Johnson. We had the
grandest time in the park. Did you know that there are pets there for
people who can't have them in their homes? They're squirrels and the
Lord put them there. Oh, here's my dime. Good-by." And she ran on
while Mr. Wells stood and stared after her as if he thought he or she
had lost their wits and he was not sure which.
He went on up and met Larry Donovan.
"Donovan," he said sharply. "I thought children were not allowed in
this building?"
"No more they are, Mr. Wells," Larry tried to speak pleasantly.
"There's a clause in every lease that says so."
"Then why do you allow a child to run all over the place?" Mr. Wells
wanted to know and he scowled fiercely.
Larry straightened himself and a dull red crept up into his face. "If
you mean my niece by your remarks," he said stiffly, "she isn't a
child. She's--she's," he stumbled, "she's goin' on fourteen."
"She has a long time to go before she ever reaches fourteen," grimly.
"Do Brown and Lawson know you have a child living with you?"
"They do not." Larry's tone was as short and crisp as pie crust.
"H-m," was all Mr. Wells said to that but he looked at Larry before he
went into his apartment and slammed the door.
"The ol' chimpanzee 'll tell Brown an' Lawson," Uncle Larry told Aunt
Kate when he came down and found her in the bedroom. "That's what
he'll do. He's goin' to complain about Mary Rose."
Aunt Kate stared at him. "An' what'll you do, Larry Donovan? What'll
you do then?"
"I'll tell them they know what they can do if they don't like it," he
answered gruffly. "I've been a good man for the place. I've kept the
peace with the tenants though, God knows, it's been no easy job. I've
kept the bills down an' made a lot of the repairs myself an' if Brown
an' Lawson want to fire me just because my niece, my wife's niece, an
inoffensive little kid, is livin' with us why they can fire. That's
what they can do. I'd be ashamed to stay an' work for them."
"Larry," Mrs. Donovan put her arms around her husband and kissed him.
"Larry Donovan, I'm that proud of you I can't see!" And she put her
hand over her wet eyes. "Then you like to have Mary Rose here?"
"I'll tell you the truth, Kate, dear. The little thing has made
herself necessary to me. That's what she's done. We got along all
right without her but that was because we didn't know what it was to
have a kid in the house. No, sir, Mary Rose is one of the fam'ly and
she stays with the fam'ly. She's good for the tenants, too. See what
she's done for Mrs. Willoughby an' Mrs. Schuneman. The ol' lady called
me in to hear her bird sing this very morning. An' Mrs. Bracken, who's
so busy club workin' for other folks she hasn't any time for her home,
tells me Mary Rose is the biggest kind of a help to her. I thought she
was goin' to jaw me about fixin' that back window 't sticks a bit. I
should have fixed it before but it clean slipped my mind, an' I up an'
asked her how Mary Rose was doing. She forgot the window to talk about
the kid. 'Ain't she small for her age?' says she. 'I guess you don't
know much about childern,' says I. 'Mary Rose's as big as she should
be!' 'When I was fourteen,' says she, 'I weighed a hunderd an' ten
poun's.' 'That's a good weight for a growing girl,' says I. 'I don't
believe you weigh much more'n that now, Mrs. Bracken,' says I. And
that ended it. She weighs a hunderd an' thirty if she weighs a pound.
An' then there's the Johnsons. Young Mrs. Johnson said this morning
that it would be a blessed relief if Mary Rose'd get the ol' lady out
every day. I guess there's a place for her here all right, whether ol'
Wells sees it or not."
"Wouldn't it be just as well for you to tell Brown an' Lawson your
story first?" asked Mrs. Donovan. "Of course, when it's a tenant
again' a janitor the janitor don't stand much show. But if you tell
the agents that your wife's niece, a girl goin' on fourteen, is staying
with you an' makin' herself useful to the tenants they won't come here
with a lot of confusin' questions when Mr. Wells has had his say.
Seems if it was the one who spoke first who gets the mos' attention.
Haven't you any errand that could take you down there the first thing
in the mornin'?"
Larry laughed scornfully. "I have that. I can al'ys find a complaint
to carry if I'm so minded. I guess you're right an' it won't do no
harm to get our side in first. Where's Mary Rose now?"
"She's gone over to Mr. Jerry's. The cat's board's overdue."
Evidently Aunt Kate thought that overdue board was a laughing matter
for she chuckled. "Mary Rose was horrified when she remembered she'd
forgotten to pay but I said Mr. Jerry 'd understand that she wasn't
used to business. So long as she paid in the end a little waiting
wouldn't matter."
Mr. Jerry had just driven into the garage when the delinquent Mary Rose
slipped in at the back gate.
"Hullo, Mary Rose," he called cheerily.
"I've come to pay George Washington's board," importantly. "I'm
ashamed I'm late but I forgot. I'm not used to business," she
apologized, mortification dyeing her cheeks pink.
"That's all right. But if it's board you're going to pay we'd better
go in and see my Aunt Mary."
His Aunt Mary looked mildly surprised when Mary Rose announced that she
had come to pay George Washington's board and she was sorry she was
late. Aunt Mary pursed her lips in a way that made Mary Rose quake
until she remembered that she was earning a lot of money and it really
didn't matter if the board was more than fifty cents. And George
Washington did have an awful appetite.
Mr. Jerry's Aunt Mary was saying so. "That cat is perfectly hollow.
It's amazing the milk he drinks. He has been here a little over a
week, Mary Rose," again mortification painted Mary Rose's cheeks, "and
in that time he has caught five mice. It is impossible to estimate the
damage that five mice would have done if they hadn't been caught so I
figure that George Washington has earned his own board."
"Why, George Washington!" Mary Rose could scarcely grasp this but when
she did she caught the cat to her in a rapturous hug. "Isn't he the
very smartest cat? Why, he's self-supporting, isn't he?" And she
hugged him again. "If he keeps on earning his board I can send for
Solomon. I don't suppose you would want to board a dog, too? I think
I'd almost feel as if I were in Heaven to have my animal friends with
me again."
"What kind of dog is Solomon?" Mr. Jerry asked carelessly. "I've been
thinking of buying a dog but perhaps I could rent old Sol."
"Mr. Jerry! I'd be glad to let you have him for his board. He's
splendid, a real fox terrier, and that clever. He can do lots of
tricks. You couldn't help but love him. He's so affectionate and
friendly."
"It was a fox terrier that I thought of buying. Then we can consider
that settled, Mary Rose. You send for Sol as soon as you please and
I'll board him for the use of him. I think he would look well on the
front seat of the car."
Mary Rose had jumped to her feet and, with George Washington still in
her arms, she threw herself on Mr. Jerry in a perfect spasm of
delighted gratitude that brought tears to the eyes of both of them for
George Washington was not accustomed to being squeezed between a young
man and a little girl.
"What a--what a splendid man you are!" cried Mary Rose. "You're like
King Arthur and Robin Hood, always succoring the friendless though I'm
not friendless when I have you and your Aunt Mary and all the people
over there." She nodded across at the white face of the Washington.
"All the people?" questioned Mr. Jerry. He had heard of some of them
who did not act friendly.
"Well, perhaps not all--yet," amended Mary Rose. "I do like to be
friends with people, Mr. Jerry. It gives you such a comfortable
feeling inside. When you're not friends it's just as if you had the
stomachache and the headache at the same time."
Mr. Jerry's Aunt Mary brought in some cookies and three glasses of
ginger ale, all sparkling and frosty.
"It's a party," beamed Mary Rose. "I've always thought the world was
full of nice people and now I know it. Aunt Kate's forever telling me
that I'm too little to know the good from the bad but I tell her there
isn't any bad, that the Lord wouldn't waste His time and dust, and
anyway I have the right kind of an eye. I showed that when I made
friends with you and Mr. Jerry."
When she left she hesitated at the gate. "Would it be a bother if I
brought a friend over to see George Washington?" she ventured. "I'd
like Miss Thorley to meet him and then perhaps she'd paint his picture."
"I should think she would," promptly agreed Mr. Jerry. "He's a cat who
deserves to have his portrait painted. Bring over any friends you
wish, Mary Rose," hospitably, "but let me know first so George
Washington will be home. Sometimes I take him out with me," gravely.
Mary Rose gazed at him with adoration. "I don't believe I could have
found a better boarding place for him, not if I had searched all Waloo.
I'll let you know, Mr. Jerry, just as soon as I know myself."