"It is a stock company concern," exclaimed Jerry, his merry eyes
dancing with pleasure. Nettie was fully as astonished and pleased as he
had hoped. "Don't you know I told you yesterday we must plan a way to
earn money? This is one way, planned for us. _We_ own Mrs. Biddy; every
feather on her knot, of which she is so proud, belongs to us, and she
must not only earn her own living and that of her children, but bring
us in a nice profit besides. Those are plump little fellows; I can
imagine them making lovely pot pies for some one who is willing to pay
a good price for them. Cannot you?"
"Poor little chickens," said Nettie in such a mournful tone that Jerry
went off into shouts of laughter. He was a humane boy, but he could not
help thinking it very funny that anybody should sigh over the thought
of a chicken pot pie.
[Illustration: "NANNIE FOUND THEM," SHE EXPLAINED.]
"Oh, I know they are to eat," Nettie said, smiling in answer to his
laughter, "and I know how to make nice crust for pot pie; but for all
that, I cannot help feeling sort of sorry for the pretty fluffy
chickens. Are you going to fat them all, to eat; or raise some of them
to lay eggs?"
"I don't know what _we_ are going to do, yet," Jerry said with pointed
emphasis on the we. "You see, we have not had time to consult; this is
a company concern, I told you. What do you think about it?"
Nettie's cheeks began to grow a deep pink; she looked down at the
hurrying chickens with a grave face for a moment, then said gently:
"You know, Jerry, I haven't any money to help buy the chickens, and I
cannot help own what I do not help buy; they are your chickens, but I
shall like to watch them and help you plan about them."
Jerry sat down on an old nail keg, crossed one foot over the other, and
clasped his hands over his knees, as Job Smith was fond of doing, and
prepared for argument:
"Now, see here, Nettie Decker, let us understand each other once for
all; I thought we had gone into partnership in this whole business;
that we were to fight that old fiend Rum, in every possible way we
could; and were to help each other plan, and work all the time, and in
all ways we possibly could. Now if you are tired of me and want to work
alone, why, I mustn't force myself upon you."
"O, Jerry!" came in a reproachful murmur from Nettie, whose cheeks were
now flaming.
"Well, what is a fellow to do? You see you hurt my feelings worse than
old Mother Topknot did this morning when she pecked me; I want to
belong, and I mean to; but all that kind of talk about helping to buy
these half-dozen little puff-balls is all nonsense, and a girl of your
sense ought to be ashamed of it."
Said Nettie, "O, Jerry, I smell the potatoes; they are scorching!" and
she ran away. Jerry looked after her a moment, as though astonished at
the sudden change of subject, then laughed, and rising slowly from the
nail-keg addressed himself to the hen.
"Now, Mother Topknot, I want you to understand that you belong to the
firm; that little woman who was just here is your mistress, and if you
peck her and scratch her as you did me, this morning, it will be the
worse for you. You are just like some people I have seen; haven't sense
enough to know who is your best friend; why, there is no end to the
nice little bits she will contrive for you and your children, if you
behave yourself; for that matter, I suspect she would do it whether you
behaved yourself or not; but that part it is quite as well you should
not understand. I want you to bring these children up to take care of
themselves, just as soon as you can; and then you are to give your
attention to laying a nice fresh egg every morning; and the sooner you
begin, the better we shall like it." Then he went in to breakfast.
There was no need to say anything more about the partnership. Nettie
seemed to come to the conclusion that she must be ashamed of herself
or her pride in the matter; and after a very short time grew
accustomed to hearing Jerry talk about "Our chicks," and dropped into
the fashion of caring for and planning about them. None the less was
she resolved to find some way of earning a little money for her share
of the stock company. Curiously enough it was Susie and little Sate
who helped again. They came in one morning, with their hands full of
the lovely field daisies. The moment Nettie looked at the two little
faces, she knew that a dispute of some sort was in progress. Susie's
lips were curved with that air of superior wisdom, not to say scorn,
which she knew how to assume; and little Sate's eyes were full of the
half-grieved but wholly positive look which they could wear on occasion.
[Illustration: SARAH ANN.]
"What is it?" Nettie asked, stopping on her way to the cellar with a
nice little pat of butter which she was saving for her father's supper.
Butter was a luxury which she had decided the children at least,
herself included, must not expect every day.
"Why," said Susie, her eyes flashing her contempt of the whole thing,
"she says these are folks; old women with caps, and eyes, and noses,
and everything; she says they look at her, and some of them are
pleasant, and some are cross. She is too silly for anything. They
don't look the least bit in the world like old women. I told her so,
fifty-eleven times, and she keeps saying it!"
Nettie held out her hand for the bunch of daisies and looked at them
carefully, and laughed.
"Can't you see them?" was little Sate's eager question. "They are just
as plain! Don't you see them a little bit of a speck, Nannie?"
"Of course she doesn't!" said scornful Susie. "Nobody but a silly baby
like you would think of such a thing."
"I don't know," said Nettie, still smiling, "I don't think I see them
as plain as Sate does, but maybe we can, after awhile; wait till I get
my butter put away, and I'll put on my spectacles and see what I can
find."
So the two waited, Susie incredulous and disgusted, Sate with a hopeful
light in her eyes, which made Nettie very anxious to find the old
ladies. On her way up stairs she felt in her pocket for the pencil
Jerry had sharpened with such care the evening before; yes, it was
there, and the point was safe. Jerry had made a neat little tube of
soft wood for it to slip into, and so protect itself.
"Now, let us look for the old lady," she said, taking a daisy in hand
and retiring to the closet window for inspection; it was the work of
a moment for her fingers which often ached for such work, to fashion
a pair of eyes, a nose, and a mouth; and then to turn down the white
petals for a cap border, leaving two under the chin for strings!
"Does your old lady look anything like that?" she questioned, as she
came out from her hiding place. Little Sate looked, and clasped her
hands in an ecstacy of delight: "Look, Susie, look, quick! there she
is, just as plain! O Nannie! I'm _so_ glad you found her."
"Humph!" said Susie, "she made her with a pencil; she wasn't there at
all; and there couldn't nobody have found her. So!"
And to this day, I suppose it would not be possible to make Susie
Decker believe that the spirits of beautiful old ladies hid in the
daisies! Some people cannot see things, you know, show them as much as
you may.
But Nettie was charmed with the little old woman. She left the potatoes
waiting to be washed, and sat down on the steps with eager little
Sate, and made old lady after old lady. Some with spectacles, and some
without. Some with smooth hair drawn quietly back from quiet foreheads,
some with the old-fashioned puffs and curls which she had seen in old,
old pictures of "truly" grandmothers. What fun they had! The potatoes
came near being forgotten entirely. It was the faithful old clock in
Mrs. Smith's kitchen which finally clanged out the hour and made Nettie
rise in haste, scattering old ladies right and left. But little Sate
gathered them, every one, holding them with as careful hand as though
she feared a rough touch would really hurt their feelings, and went out
to hunt Susie and soothe her ruffled dignity. She did not find Susie;
that young woman was helping Jerry nail laths on the chicken coop; but
she found her sweet-faced Sabbath-school teacher, who was sure to stop
and kiss the child, whenever she passed. To her, Sate at once showed
the sweet old women. "Nannie found them," she explained; "Susie could
not see them at all, and she kept saying they were not there; but
Nannie said she would make them look plainer so Susie could see, and
now Susie thinks she made them out of a pencil; but they were there,
before, I saw them."
"Oh, you quaint little darling!" said Miss Sherrill, kissing her again.
"And so your sister Nettie made them plainer for you. I must say she
has done it with a skilful hand. Sate dear, would you give one little
old woman to me? Just one; this dear old face with puffs, I want her
very much."
So Sate gazed at her with wistful, tender eyes, kissed her tenderly,
and let Miss Sherrill carry her away.
She carried her straight to the minister's study, and laid her on the
open page of a great black commentary which he was studying. "Did
you ever see anything so cunning? That little darling of a Sate says
Nannie 'found' her; she doesn't seem to think it was made, but simply
developed, you know, so that commoner eyes than hers could see it;
that child was born for a poet, or an artist, I don't know which.
Tremayne, I'm going to take this down to the flower committee, and get
them to invite Nettie to make some bouquets of dear old grandmothers,
and let little Sate come to the flower party and sell them. Won't that
be lovely? Every gentleman there will want a bouquet of the nice old
ladies in caps, and spectacles; we will make it the fashion; then they
will sell beautifully, and the little merchant shall go shares on the
proceeds, for the sake of her artist sister."
"It is a good idea," said the minister. "I infer from what that
handsome boy Jerry has told me, that they have some scheme on hand
which requires money. I am very much interested in those young people,
my dear. I wish you would keep a watch on them, and lend a helping hand
when you can."