Janice found herself clinging tightly to Amy Carringford's hand
and Amy clinging tightly to hers, as the rubbish wagon rattled
away with Delia and her grim father perched on the high seat,
while the black oilcloth bag rattled around in the otherwise
empty body of the cart.
"Oh, Janice!" gasped Amy at last.
"Oh, Amy!" rejoined her friend. "And no dinner for daddy when he
comes home!"
Amy could not comment on this catastrophe for the moment, for
Miss Peckham (the only neighbor who seemed to have marked the
departure of Delia) came swiftly into view. Miss Peckham's
blinds were always bowed, and one never knew which blind she was
lurking behind.
"Well!" she exclaimed (and Janice thought she said it quite
cheerily), "so that one's gone, has she?"
"They--they just seem to come and go," Janice replied, almost in
tears. "Oh, dear! Delia wasn't much; but I did hope she would
stay a little longer."
"'Much'!" sniffed Miss Peckham. "I should say she wasn't. And
she isn't even sensible. I should think even a girl of your age
could have seen she was more'n half crazy. Wouldn't expect your
father to notice nothing. He's only a man."
"Oh! Really crazy, do you mean?" Amy Carringford burst out.
"She never was more'n half bright, that Biddy Garrity. That was
her name before she married Tom Burns. And he died. Blowed up
in the powder mill. That was old Garrity who came for her. She
ain't got no right to run off and leave her two children and that
old man to get along as best they can. But she does it--often. I
thought there would be trouble just as soon as I seen her sitting
on your steps t'other day."
"Well, I wish we'd known it," sighed Janice. "She-- she did seem
sort of funny. But she wasn't much worse than some of the others
we've had."
"Humph!" sniffed Miss Peckham, "just what I told your father last
night. You need a manager here--somebody to take hold"
"I shall have to take hold now and see about getting dinner for
daddy," Janice responded, recovering a measure of her
self-confidence. "Come on in, Amy, and watch me work."
"If I come in and help you," said her friend. "I guess you won't
have to do it all."
A glance through the lower rooms proved that Delia had done
little more toward straightening the house this day than the day
before.
"Goodness, mercy me, Janice Day!" exclaimed Amy Carringford.
"I'm awfully glad we don't have to have servants. It must be
awful!"
"It just is," sighed Janice. "You never know when you come home
from school whether you will find the girl or not. And you're
'most always sure to find that not half the work's been done.
Well, I can get daddy some sort of a dinner myself tonight."
"What are you going to cook? Let me help," said Amy eagerly. "I
know how to make lovely rolls--only you have to set the sponge
the night before. And Judge Peters's pudding is just luscious!
Only you have to have currants and citron and chopped nuts to go
into it."
"We won't have either of those things for dinner, then," said
Janice, with a cheerful laugh.
"Well, we don't have them nowadays," sighed Amy. "But we used
to."
"I suppose you have had to give up lots of nice things since your
father died," rejoined, her friend sympathetically. "But," and
she giggled, "Gummy said yesterday he couldn't give up his name."
"The poor boy!" Amy declared, shaking her head. "Give me an
apron, Janice. I am going to peel those potatoes and that
turnip. Potatoes and turnip mashed together makes a nice dish.
And Gummy can't really give up his name."
"'Gumswith'! It's awful," murmured Janice. "How ever--"
"Well I'll tell you. Poor dear father had a half-brother who was
lots older than he. Grandmother Carringford had been married
before she married our grandfather, you see. And her first
husband's name was Mr. Gumswith. John Gumswith. It's not so bad
as a last name, you see."
"No," agreed Janice, her eyes twinkling. "Not when you say it
quick."
Amy laughed again, busy peeling the vegetables. And she peeled
them thin, Janice noticed. Amy had evidently been taught the
fine points of frugal housekeeping.
"So poor Gummy got his name from John Gumswith, Junior. I guess
father's half-brother was a queer man. He said he'd never marry,
because he was always wandering about the world."
"Like a peddler?" ventured Janice.
"No. But he went to foreign countries. He always expected to
earn a lot of money by some stroke of fortune, mother says. But
none of us children ever saw him. Before Gummy was born Uncle
John Gumswith started off for Australia, and mother and father
never heard of him, or from him after that."
"But they named poor Gummy after him," commented Janice, busy
with the onion she was chopping to season the hamburger roast,
and trying to keep the juice of the onion out of her eyes.
"You see," Amy confessed confidentially, "when father and mother
were married Uncle John gave them a little nest egg. You
understand? He had some money, and he gave some of it to them.
And then, he was father's only living relative; so they named the
first baby 'Gumswith'--so that the family name should not die out
you know."
"My goodness!" exclaimed Janice, but whether because of the
saddling of Gummy Carringford with such a name, or because of the
squirting of onion juice into her left eye, she did not explain
at the moment.
"So Gummy is Gummy," sighed his sister. "Father didn't name him
that just for the money's sake. Mother says a million dollars
wouldn't really pay for such a name. But father thought a lot of
Uncle John Gumswith.
"But when Gummy grows up, he will have to go through life, so he
says, signing has name 'G. Carringford,'" and Amy began to giggle
at this thought.
"It is really too bad," said Janice, but her mind was on another
subject just then. "How quick you are, Amy! You know how to do
everything, don't you?"
"No I don't. But what I know, I know well," said her friend in
her quiet way. "Is your water hot? This turnip wants to go
right on, for it take longer to cook than the potatoes."
"Here you are," said Janice, seizing the pot and carrying it to
the stove. There she poured boiling water over the turnip and
set the pot where it would continue to simmer. "It's too early
to put the roast in yet. Come on upstairs, Amy. I know that
Delia neither made up my bed nor dusted my room. I did daddy's
before I went to school this morning."
"Such a nice house!" murmured Amy, as she followed Janice
upstairs by the way of the front hall.
"And not half kept," sighed Janice. "When dear mother was with
us--"
She and Amy said no more until Janice's bedroom was all spick and
span again. Janice hugged her friend heartily when at last the
pillows were plumped up at the head of the bed.
"You're a dear!" she said. "You do like me, don't you, Amy?"
"Of course I do."
"Then you'll go to Stella's party with me, you?'
"Oh, but, Janice, I can't!"
"There's that word can't' again," said Janice lightly. "I don't
believe in it--no ma'am! You can go if you want to."
"I--I haven't a thing nice enough to wear!" confessed Amy
desperately, her face flaming and water standing in her eyes.
"As though that was a good reason! Let me show you what I am
going to wear."
But the pretty black and white dress that Janice brought forth
from her closet only made Amy shake her head.
"Yes. I know. But it is new--and very nice."
"I've never worn it yet," confessed Janice.
"And everything I've got is as old as the hills," groaned Amy
Carringford.
"Well, look here--and here--and here!" Janice tossed as many
frocks upon the bed. "What do you suppose is going to become of
those?"
"Oh, Janice! how pretty they are. This pink and white one--"
"M-mm! my mother made them for me," said Janice, trying to speak
bravely. "And now they are too small, anyway. I've grown a lot
since a year ago."
"Oh, Janice!"
"So you are going to wear one of them to Stella's party,"
declared Janice confidently. "The pink and white one if you
like."
"Oh, Janice, I can't. My mother wouldn't let me."
"I'm going to make her let you. I'm going to beg her on my
knees!" declared Janice, laughing. "Do get into it, Amy, and see
if it fits you.
"Wel-l-l!"
It did. There was no doubt but that Amy was just a wee bit
smaller than Janice and that the frocks were an almost perfect
fit.
"But--but to take a whole new dress from you--a gift! Oh,
Janice! I know it isn't right. Mother will not hear of it"
"Mother's going to hear of it--and from me," declared Janice.
"To-morrow's Saturday. After I get all the work done, and Arlo
Junior helps me clean that back kitchen, I am going to bring this
dress down to your house. I know when she once sees it on you,
she won't have the heart to say 'No.'"
So, perhaps Janice Day was sly, after all.