SALLY BROWN'S NEW IDEA
The following Saturday Tom Randall heard some news.
"You can't guess the latest!" he shouted, as he ran up the stairs three
steps at a time, reaching the door of the sewing-room out of breath,
and beaming with smiles.
"It must be something good," ventured Sally, forgetting to pull basting
threads in her eagerness to hear more.
Cornelia Mary looked doubtfully at her brother. "Well, what is it?" she
asked.
"Get your camphor bottle ready. I'm going to let you down easy, but you
had better be prepared. Corny, your school's gone. You won't teach in
the Hodgkins district this year, I can tell you right now."
"What do you mean?"
"Just what I said."
"Did the schoolhouse burn up?"
"Worse'n that."
"Have they hired another teacher?"
"Worse yet."
"Come, Tom, tell us," besought Mrs. Brown.
"He's fooling!" declared Sally.
"No, sir, I mean what I say," insisted Tom. "Corny's school has gone,
bag and baggage."
"Well, how could it?" demanded Cornelia Mary.
Tom shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know how it could be so cruel,"
he said, "but maybe it didn't like to have you for a teacher. Fact is,
it's gone. The Beans and the Kilpatricks have got work in the sugar
factory, and they moved to town. There goes your A Class and your B
Class and—"
"Well, the Chart Class isn't gone," interrupted Cornelia Mary, laughing
in spite of herself at Tom's antics. "You can have a school if there's
only one child in the whole district and little Willie Jessup begins
this summer. Poor little fellow, he'll be lonesome."
"No, little Willie won't be lonesome," mocked Tom, "because little
Willie's going too. I tell you, Corny, your school's gone. Cheer up,
you've got me left. I'll be home all summer. Never mind the Hodgkins
district, let it go."
"You go away," retorted Cornelia Mary, struggling with tears, "you're a
comfort, aren't you?"
"It was my painful duty, Corny, to tell you before the neighbours did
and this is all the thanks I get, just 'go away.' What an ungrateful
world it is. Never mind, Corny, if you ever need a friend, you come
back to your sweet brother. He'll forgive you."
"Will you go away!" repeated Cornelia Mary.
"Oh, yes," was the reply, "I mustn't stay in a damp place for fear of
rheumatism. Better get up your umbrella, Sally," and Tom went away
whistling.
Cornelia Mary did cry, at least she cried until Sally Brown appeared to
be very much excited about something.
"What is the matter?" asked Mrs. Brown, while Cornelia Mary wiped her
eyes and stared.
"Why—why the Mulvaneys!" exclaimed Sally. "Why can't they move out
here and go to school?"
"Who are the Mulvaneys?" asked Cornelia Mary.
"Well, they're the Mulvaneys," Sally insisted, "and—"
"Can it be," interrupted Mrs. Brown, "that Sally has never mentioned
them to you?"
"Never," replied Cornelia Mary. "Do tell me about them."
"You, mamma, you will tell it so much better than I could."
"It is a dismal story," began Mrs. Brown, "and one I would gladly have
forgotten."
"Why Mamma Brown!"
"Don't misunderstand me, Sally; I shall never forget Mrs. Mulvaney's
kindness, but as I have said a dozen times, we cannot help the family
and there is no use in continually dwelling upon their misery."
"Only I can't help hoping," murmured Sally. "Go on, mamma."
When the story was finished, Cornelia Mary turned to Sally with a
puzzled look on her face.
"How do you think we could get that family into the Hodgkins district?"
she asked. "What would they do? I mean, where would they live, and what
could Mrs. Mulvaney do to earn their bread and butter, I'd like to
know?"
"Couldn't she take in washing?" demanded Sally.
Cornelia Mary shook her head. "I'm afraid not in the country."
"Oh, but she could," Sally declared. "Mrs. Turner says she could
get more washing to do in the village than five women could manage,
especially when the summer boarders are there. Mrs. Turner says too
she's even wondered why some one doesn't start a laundry."
"But that's in the village and wouldn't help my school any."
"Maybe that's true," agreed Sally, "but couldn't they live in the
country, and couldn't Chinky and Hannah go after the washings and take
them home? The worst trouble is finding a place for the Mulvaneys to
live. There isn't a house they could get in the village."
"How do you know?" asked Mrs. Brown.
Sally smiled. "Oh, Mrs. Turner and I went house-hunting only last
Saturday. We thought maybe we could find a cheap little house, but
we couldn't on account of the new sugar factory. Houses are scarce
and rents are high. We found out a few things. That's the way I do my
hoping, mamma."
"Would they come?" inquired Cornelia Mary, growing interested.
"Come!" echoed Sally, "they'd come flying!"
"Yes, they would," agreed her mother. "There's no doubt of it. But how
could we manage, Cornelia Mary? Where could they get a house, and how
could they furnish it?"
"Of course they would have to bring their furniture," suggested
Cornelia Mary.
"But they haven't anything worth mentioning, even if they could afford
the expense. I doubt if Mrs. Mulvaney ever had money enough ahead to
buy tickets for the whole family, and their clothes are unthinkable.
No, it is hopeless."
"Don't say that, Mrs. Brown, on account of my school. If there is a
way to get them here, Sally and I must do it. Father will help us, I
know. Come on, Sally, we'll go and find him. If what Tom says is true,
and I'm sure it is because I heard something about it last week, why,
there'll be three houses empty and perhaps we may be able to get one of
them cheap."
"You never can tell until you try," added Sally.