FOURFOLD.
DURING the next few weeks, there was a great deal to be done at Mrs.
Lynn's. The sewing-machine and the seamstress were not idle, for there
were a great many stitches to be taken to put the wardrobe of the
family in order for the summer, and just as soon as all was done, they
were to start on their journey, spending a little time in New York on
their way to the sea-side.
Katy could hardly wait for the day to come. It would be so strange to
go back to the great city where she used to live, when everything was
so different with her now. She wondered if she should see Daisy again,
and if Peter and Nancy were there,—if a certain bakery was where it
used to be.
Katy had her own trunk and packed it herself, and it took a great many
packings to get it to her mind. But the time came at last for them to
start, and the morning train carried them swiftly on their way.
Toward evening, they arrived in the city. Taking a coach, they went
to Mrs. Lynn's sister's, who lived in a handsome house up town. The
travelers were shown into the brightly-lighted parlor, where they
received a warm welcome from a lady and gentleman and little girl who
sat around the table reading.
"And this is your little girl that you have adopted? My dear, this is
your new auntie," said the lady, as she kissed Katy; "and it seems as
if I had seen those eyes before, but that must be all fancy, of course."
In the commotion, nobody had thought to make the two little girls
acquainted, and all were surprised when Katy exclaimed:
"It's 'Daisy,' mamma! I do believe it 'is' Daisy!"
Sure enough, there were the golden curls and the fair face and the
sweet blue eyes. Nobody could forget her very well that had ever seen
her.
"Yes, I'm Daisy," said the little girl, "but I don't know who you are."
"Why, don't you know? I'm Katy."
"Katy? Why—why—you're not the Katy that used to come here beg—with a
basket, are you?"
"Yes," said Katy, blushing at the remembrance.
"Why, I never should have known you! Where have you been this long
time? I was so sorry you didn't come any more," and the long-lost
friends gave each other a warm greeting, while the older ones looked
on, a good deal puzzled at all this.
"Now help us to understand this mystery," said Mrs. Grant to her
sister. "How came Katy to stray off to you?"
So Katy's history was told and talked over with a great deal of
wondering at the strange way in which things had turned out. And it
was late before the pleasant party around the tea-table broke up and
settled themselves for the night.
Perhaps you think that now Mr. and Mrs. Grant, since they knew all
about Katy, felt as if they did not want a child who had once been
a beggar to be a visitor in their house, and that Daisy, too, gave
herself airs, and drew off from Katy, and tried to show her how far
beneath her she was. But it was not so at all. They were a dear,
Christian family, and were delighted to find that even one poor lamb
had been snatched away from a life of misery.
Daisy and Katy were up with the first peep of day, and their tongues
running very fast.
"O Daisy!" said Katy. "You can't think how much good that poor little
dolly did me, that you gave to me."
"I remember it," said Daisy, "it had its legs or arms off, didn't
it? How much I missed you, Katy, when you didn't come any more. I
was afraid that old man had killed you,—and now you've come. It's so
nice—it's just like a story-book; and we are cousins too, now, and can
see each other real often."
And the two happy little girls wound their arms about each other, and
skipped off to the garden, as Daisy called it. But it was the same
little spot where Daisy had sat with her dolls the day Katy saw her.
Now it was all gay with flowers.
Daisy spent a good deal of her time here at work, for she had planted
the seeds and bulbs herself, and weeded and hoed and watered with great
patience, as the pretty little garden plainly showed.
"Katy," said her mother one day, "you may come out with me a little
while to do an errand."
When they were out by themselves, Mrs. Lynn said:
"Now we will attend to that business of ours about the bakery, you
know."
"Oh, mamma!" said Katy. "Doesn't papa know?"
"No, indeed! This is our secret—yours and mine and the katy-dids. Now
I want to see if we can find the place, and if the same man is there."
By means of street-car and omnibus they found themselves on the very
corner that Katy had described. It was a bakery, and the sign read:
J. BARTON & SON.
"That is it," said Katy, "that is it!" And she would have rushed right
in, if her Mother had not held her back.
"No, Katy, I will show you a better way. We will go now, and you may
write to Mr. Barton enclosing as much money as you think you ought, and
we will send it to him. That will be less embarrassing to you, and will
answer the purpose just as well."
Before many hours had passed, Katy, after a good deal of study, brought
the note to her mother, who said it was all right, and sent it to the
post-office.
"Come with me," said Mr. Lynn to his wife and Katy, one day, as they
were passing down Broadway. "Let us take this down-town omnibus, and
see if Katy can find her way to where that old Peter used to live."
When they were once more in the neighborhood of the bakery, Katy soon
found her way to the alley that she had traveled over so much.
"I should have supposed," said her mamma, "that you would have
forgotten where to turn, by this time."
"Oh," said Katy, "I remembered that after I passed the bakery, I turned
down by this big building with tall chimneys."
After walking a long distance down the alley, they came upon the old
sign swinging in the wind,—
PETER HANKS, SHOEMAKER
And there, sunning himself in the doorway, sat old Peter himself. He
was sound asleep, so they had a good chance to peep through the broken
window, and see the home that Katy had left. The remains of the dinner
were still on the table, and there was the whisky jug that accounted
for the deep sleep of the master and mistress. For over on the bed in
the corner, Nancy, too, was snoring, her mouth wide open. Her wash-tub
stood in its usual place near the middle of the room—a large pond of
suds under it, and the room was as dark and damp and mouldy-smelling as
it used to be.
Katy noticed with a shudder the door of the closet standing open, where
she had slept so many times on a heap of filthy rags.
Mr. and Mrs. Lynn turned away from the sickening sight with swelling
hearts, and Katy grasped a hand of each, as if she feared that old
Peter would wake and claim her even now. None of them spoke as they
walked away, but each was in deep thought.
Katy was thinking:
"Oh, how good God was to let me get away from those bad old folks and
that dreadful, 'dreadful' place, and then to give me such a home as He
has. I must be very good all my life."
In Mr. Barton's bakery the lights were turned low. The business was
done for the day, and Mr. Barton, a gray-haired man past sixty, with
his face full of worldly care, seated himself by the fire to read some
letters that had just been brought in.
"What does all this mean?" he said, as he opened one letter and some
money dropped at his feet. Then he read it, and this is what it said:
"MR. BARTON: When I was a wicked little girl, I stole a loaf of bread
from you. You never knew it, I guess. It was more than two years ago.
Now I have learned how dreadful sin is, for I belong to Jesus, and I
want to make it all right with you. I send you fifty cents. I know the
loaf didn't cost so much, but I want to do as the man in the Bible
did,—pay back four times as much. Please forgive me.
"KATY."
When Mr. Barton had read it, he said:
"What in the world is all this about, anyway, and who is Katy?"
Then he took off his spectacles and wiped them, and read it again. Then
he wiped his eyes and looked all about, as if there was any one there
to see him, and leaned his head on his hand, and thought a long time.
He thought how many times he had done things that were worse than this;
and here was a little girl who thought she had committed a great sin in
taking one loaf of bread.
Then one little sentence in the letter, "I belong to Jesus, now,"
kept itself before him. To whom did "he" belong? He had never stopped
thinking about his business long enough to ask himself that question.
He sat a long time and thought about these things, more seriously than
he had in many years.
The next week, the two families started for the sea-shore, and for many
happy weeks after, Daisy and Katy enjoyed being together. They bathed
and searched for shells, and played in the sand.
And there we will leave them, only saying that Katy "did" grow up to
be a noble, Christian woman, and worked hard for the Master, and had a
warm heart for all little homeless children.
THE END.