Mrs. Myles’ Advice
The moment the car had driven away, Connie turned accusingly upon Veve.
“Now you’ve done it!” she exclaimed. “You’ve invited a man we scarcely
know to lunch! And what’s worse he’s expecting a big meal.”
“How’d I know he’d accept?” Veve mumbled.
“The other Brownies may not like it one bit,” Connie went on severely.
“And who is going to prepare the lunch?”
“Maybe he won’t come.”
“You hope--” said Connie.
“Why, I think it was nice to invite Mr. Vincent,” interposed Miss
Gordon. “Especially after he brought us all into Rosedale. The lunch
will be no problem.”
Veve felt much better then. Saying good-bye to Miss Gordon she ran into
her home. Connie lived next door, while the teacher resided only a
half block farther on.
School examinations occupied the Brownies for the next three days.
After that came rain and more rain.
By Friday the weather had turned chilly and no one could be certain
whether or not it would be possible to visit the tree house on the
following day.
“What will we do about having Mr. Vincent to luncheon?” Veve fretted.
“I forgot to ask where he lives so I can’t very well get in touch
with him. If he should go to the tree house, and we aren’t there--how
embarrassing!”
“You should have thought of that when you invited him,” Connie said
severely.
Except for Veve, the Brownies did not worry much about Mr. Vincent.
During the week they had become engrossed in making periodic searches
for old and decorative buttons.
Rosemary excitedly reported that in her mother’s attic she had come
upon an old wedding dress with five embroidered taffeta buttons made in
a star pattern.
Her “find” had started the other Brownies on an intensive search.
Jane obtained an opaque glass button, very old looking, and another of
clear glass on black pigment foil with gold stripes.
But the button Eileen found on an aged coat cuff was the most
interesting of all--the head of a horse on a black background.
“If anyone finds two buttons just alike, I’ll trade,” offered Rosemary.
Connie and Veve felt rather discouraged because they could obtain only
modern, uninteresting buttons.
“Don’t give up,” Miss Gordon encouraged them. “Our search has only
started, you know.”
Veve and Connie asked their friends for buttons and then tried the
homes of strangers. On Friday night after school, they stopped at
several places near the outskirts of Rosedale. In each instance the
lady of the house regretfully told them that she had only modern
buttons.
“It’s no use,” declared Veve, ready to give up.
“Let’s try one more house,” urged Connie.
Now it so happened that a Mrs. Listerstrom lived there and by chance
she had kept a very pretty cameo button which had belonged to her
grandmother.
“You may have it, my dear,” she said to Connie. “I’m sorry I haven’t
two of them. But I know where you might find a great many old buttons.”
“Where?” demanded Veve eagerly.
Mrs. Listerstrom directed the girls to a house farther out into the
country, not far from the natural park.
“I don’t think we should go out there today,” said Connie. Now that she
had her cameo button she was ready to go home.
“Oh, it isn’t far,” insisted Veve. “We can walk fast. And just think!
We might find dozens of buttons!”
Connie allowed herself to be coaxed into making the long hike.
After a while the girls came to the house which had been described to
them by Mrs. Listerstrom. The dwelling stood some distance back from
the highway and looked very old.
Withered vines covered a sagging porch. The house had not been painted
in several years. To add to the untidy appearance, chickens and geese
ran within the enclosure.
“I don’t like the look of this place,” murmured Connie, holding back.
“It may be a little old, but that’s so much the better,” argued Veve.
“We’ll be more likely to find a lot of old clothes. And old clothes
mean old buttons.”
Thus encouraged, Connie walked on with her friend to the side door
of the dwelling. Someone was at home, they knew, for they could hear
movement within the kitchen.
Veve rapped on the door. Soon it was opened by a thin woman in a dark
plaid gingham dress.
The two girls were so astonished that for a long moment they could not
speak.
Standing before them was the same woman who so abruptly had driven away
from them in the park! Her name, Mr. Karwhite had told them, was Minnie
Myles.
“Good afternoon,” the woman greeted them as the girls remained silent.
“Haven’t I seen you somewhere?”
“Oh, yes,” murmured Veve in confusion.
“At the park,” supplied Connie, wondering if Mrs. Myles would order
them away.
“To be sure! To be sure!” The woman spoke most pleasantly. “Do come in,
girls.”
Now Veve and Connie were sorry they had chosen this particular house at
which to inquire for buttons. However, it was too late to retreat, so
they entered the warm kitchen.
Mrs. Myles had been baking bread. Three fragrant, crusty brown loaves
cooled on the table. Heat continued to pour from the oven of the
old-fashioned cook stove.
“H-m, that smells good!” exclaimed Veve, sniffing the air.
“Wouldn’t you like a piece, with wild grape jelly?” invited Mrs. Myles.
Now the change in the woman’s manner amazed both Veve and Connie.
At the park, Mrs. Myles had seemed unfriendly to all of the Brownie
Scouts. The two girls could not understand why she previously had been
so cross unless their questions about the sack had annoyed her.
“W-ell,” hesitated Veve. She very much wanted a piece of the warm
bread, but did not wish to appear too eager. From the barren appearance
of the kitchen she was afraid the woman might not have very much food
for herself.
“Of course you want a slice of bread,” declared Mrs. Myles. “I never
met a child who wasn’t hungry. I’ll give you each a large slice.
I’m sorry I have no butter. Now tell me what brought you here this
afternoon.”
Feeling far more at ease, the girls explained that the Brownie Scouts
were collecting old and historical buttons.
“Well, that sounds like an interesting hobby,” declared Mrs. Myles.
“The other girls are getting ahead of us,” Veve disclosed. “So we
thought we would come here and ask if you have any old ones.”
“Not good buttons,” Connie said, stooping to pet a black and white cat
that rubbed against her legs. “Just buttons you no longer use.”
“Let me see,” murmured Mrs. Myles, thinking hard. “Why, yes! I must
have dozens and dozens of them.”
“Old ones?” gasped Veve hopefully.
“Goodness, yes! The chest in the storeroom is stacked with old clothes.”
Veve asked if they might see the garments. She was trying hard not to
reveal her excitement.
“I’ll see what I can find for you, while you’re eating your bread and
jam,” Mrs. Myles offered.
She sliced a generous piece of bread for each girl. Then, leaving
them by the fire to play with Tops, the cat, she disappeared into the
adjoining room.
During the woman’s absence, Veve and Connie gazed curiously about the
kitchen.
The room was scantily furnished. A well-scrubbed kitchen table, a
corner cabinet, three chairs and the stove constituted the only visible
items. Lacking an ice box, Mrs. Myles had set a milk bottle outside the
window.
Connie could see that the dining room was equally bare. The floor had
no rug and the curtains were nearly worn out.
“Mrs. Myles must be very poor,” she whispered to Veve. “Maybe we should
offer to pay for the buttons.”
Veve did not know what to say. Neither she nor Connie had brought any
money with them. Nor did they know how much old buttons might be worth.
By the time the girls had finished their bread and jam, Mrs. Myles
returned. Her arms were laden with old garments which smelled faintly
of moth balls.
Shaking out a dress for the girls to see, she explained that it had
belonged to her grandmother.
“The velvet buttons are very nice,” she remarked. “One doesn’t find
their like in the stores these days.”
The front of the dress was decorated with four of the buttons. Of
silhouette design, they were made in two pieces with velvet showing
through the cut-out metal of the face.
“Oh, I’m sure none of the other Brownies have buttons such as these!”
exclaimed Connie. “They’re even nicer than the taffeta ones Rosemary
found!”
The girls were hopeful Mrs. Myles would offer them the four buttons. In
that event they would have a grand time trading with Rosemary!
However, Mrs. Myles said quite frankly that she did not want to ruin
the dress by removing the buttons.
“I know!” she declared. “You may have the button on the belt. It will
never be missed.”
Taking her scissors from the sewing basket, she snipped the thread and
gave the button to Connie.
“Please, Mrs. Myles,” the little girl offered, “can’t I pay for it?”
“No, my dear. You are welcome to the button. Now let’s see what we can
find for this other little girl. You’re--?”
“Veve McGuire.”
“To be sure. Well, we must find a nice button for you also.”
Mrs. Myles examined several of the garments she had brought from the
chest. Veve noticed nice buttons on several dresses and would have
taken them. Mrs. Myles, however, told her that they were not very old
or valuable.
“I know!” she exclaimed suddenly, putting away the pile of clothing.
Again Mrs. Myles disappeared, returning a moment later with a tiny box.
From it she removed several small articles, and then came upon the
button for which she had searched.
“Recognize this face?” she asked Veve.
Veve looked carefully at the button. “Why, it’s a picture of one of our
presidents!” she exclaimed. “President Grant!”
“I see you know your history, my dear. Yes, this is a tintype button
popular in Victorian time. It will make a nice addition for your
collection.”
“Is it really for me?” Veve asked in awe.
“I have no further use for it, my dear.”
The girls wondered if Mrs. Myles might not have many other interesting
buttons in her home.
Not wishing to appear greedy, they did not hint that they would like
to see them. Instead, they thanked her for the two she had given them
and said it was time to leave.
“Wait!” Mrs. Myles said impulsively. “I have something else to show
you. Come with me.”
She led the girls into the living room. The sofa was frayed and the
chairs appeared to be falling apart. Lace curtains, once of good
quality, had been mended many times.
Nevertheless, the room did have one attractive object. On the sofa was
a beautiful pillow decorated in neat cross-stitching.
Veve noticed it at once and remarked on its beauty.
“My mother made that pillow,” said Mrs. Myles proudly. “I’ve had it in
the house more years than I can remember. But this is what I want you
to see.”
She pointed to a star-shaped match holder on the wall.
Veve and Connie drew in their breath, for the decorative object was
made entirely of buttons! Many appeared quite old.
“Oh, wouldn’t the other Brownies be excited if they could see this!”
explained Veve.
Mrs. Myles was very pleased by her interest in the match holder.
However, she explained it had been made by her mother, and for that
reason she could not give it away.
“Anyway, we’re glad to have these other two buttons,” Connie thanked
her.
The hour was growing late, so the girls said they must be hurrying home.
“Do come again,” Mrs. Myles invited them cordially. “Tomorrow perhaps?
I may be able to find a few more buttons.”
“We’d love to,” accepted Connie.
“But tomorrow’s Saturday,” Veve reminded her friend.
“That’s so,” Connie agreed. “If the weather is nice, all the Brownies
will be at our tree house in the park.”
“We’ll be pretty busy too,” added Veve in a worried tone. “You see, we
invited Sam Vincent to luncheon.”
The name seemed to startle Mrs. Myles. “Sam Vincent?” she repeated in
an odd tone.
“He’s very nice,” declared Connie. “The other day during the storm, he
picked us up in his car and drove us to our homes.”
“Sam has plenty of time to go galavanting around in a car it seems!”
Mrs. Myles said tartly.
“You know him?” asked Connie in surprise.
“Know him! Well, rather! If I were to give any advice to the Brownies,
I’d say to have nothing to do with him! But then, it’s none of my
affair! Good afternoon.”
The woman firmly closed the door upon Veve and Connie.