A QUARTETTE OF LADY BOUNTIFULS
For once the stolid little Sadie was unfaithful to her charges. She
forgot the little ones her step-mother had left in her care; but the
neighbors looked out for them.
She stood upon the icy walk, when she understood the full truth about
"the big red bank in the kitchen," and watched with tearless eyes the
gas collector walk away.
Her face worked pitifully; her black eyes grew hot; but she would not
let the tears fall. She clenched her little red hands, bit her lower
lip, and stamped her worn shoe upon the walk. Hatred of all mankind--not
alone of the woman who had so wickedly befooled her--was welling up in
little Sadie Goronofsky's heart.
It was then that Ruth Kenway put her arm around the little Jewish girl's
shoulders and led her away to Mrs. Kranz's back parlor. There the Corner
House girls told her how sorry they were; Mrs. Kranz filled her hands
with "coffee kringle." Then some of the very best of the presents the
Corner House girls had brought were chosen for Sadie's brothers and
sisters, and Sadie was to be allowed to take them home herself to them.
"I don't mind being guyed by the kids at school because I can't put
nothin' on that old Christmas tree. But I been promisin' _her_ kids they
should each have suthin' fine. She's been foolin' them jest the same as
she has me. I don't know what my papa ever wanted ter go and marry _her_
for," concluded Sadie, with a sniff.
"Hey! hey!" exclaimed Mrs. Kranz, sternly. "Iss dot de vay to talk yedt
about your mamma?"
"She ain't my mamma," declared Sadie, sullenly.
"Sthop dot, Sadie!" said Mrs. Kranz. "You cand't remember how sweedt
your papa's wife was to you when you was little. Who do you s'pose
nursed you t'rough de scarlet fever dot time? Idt wass her."
"Huh!" grunted Sadie, but she took a thoughtful bite of cake.
"Undt de measles, yedt," went on Mrs. Kranz. "Like your own mamma, she
iss dot goot to you. But times iss hardt now, undt poor folks always haf
too many babies."
"She don't treat me like she was my mamma now," complained Sadie, with a
sob that changed to a hiccough as she sipped the mug of coffee that had
been the accompaniment of the cake. "She hadn't ought to told me those
quarters she put in that box was mine, when they was to pay the gas
man."
Mrs. Kranz eyed the complainant shrewdly. "Why vor shouldt you pe paid
vor he'pin' your mamma yedt?" she asked. "You vouldn't haf gone from
school home yedt undt helped her, if it hadn't been for vat she toldt
you about de money. You vorked for de money every time--aind't idt?"
Sadie hung her head.
"Dot is idt!" cried the good German woman. "You make your poor mamma
tell things to fool you, else you vould sthay avay an' blay. She haf to
bribe you to make you help her like you should. Shame! Undt she nodt go
to de school like you, undt learn better."
"I s'pose that's so," admitted Sadie, more thoughtfully. "She ain't a
'Merican like what I am, that goes to school an' learns from books."
In the end, between the ministrations of the Corner House girls and Mrs.
Kranz, the whole Goronofsky family was made happy. Sadie promised to
help her mamma without being bribed to do so; Mrs. Goronofsky, who was a
worn, tired out little woman, proved to have some heart left for her
step-daughter, after all; "the kids" were made delighted by the presents
Sadie was enabled to bring them; and Ruth went around to Mr.
Goronofsky's shop and presented him with a receipted bill for his house
rent for December.
The work of the quartette of Lady Bountifuls by no means ended with the
Goronofskys. Not a tenant of the Stower Estate was missed. Even Mrs.
Kranz herself was remembered by the Corner House girls, who presented
her, in combination, a handsome shopping bag to carry when she went
downtown to the bank.
It was a busy afternoon and evening they spent on Meadow Street--for
they did not get home to a late supper until eight o'clock. But their
comments upon their adventures were characteristic.
"It is _so_ satisfactory," said Ruth, placidly, "to make other people
happy."
"I'm dog tired," declared Agnes, "but I'd love to start right out and do
it all over again!"
"I--I hope the little Maroni baby won't lick all the red paint off that
rattle and make herself sick," sighed Tess, reflectively.
"If she does we can buy her a new rattle. It didn't cost but ten cents,"
Dot rejoined, seeing at the moment but one side of the catastrophe.