PIECES OF LAUGHTER AND FUN (3 page)

"That's a possibility," ma admitted. "But I'd just as soon not find out." She deftly separated the dough and formed a panful of rolls. Then she set them on the back of the stove to rise. "I don't know what I'd do with a servant if I had one."

"She could do the cooking and baking."

"I'll take care of my own cooking and baking, thank you," ma replied. "That way, I always know what I'm eating. Besides, I enjoy it."

"She could do the dishes. You don't always enjoy those."

"I have a perfectly good daughter who needs to know how to do dishes," ma said. "How are you going to know how to run your own home when you grow up if you never help someone else do it?"

With a lot of servants
, I thought to myself. But I wouldn't say that to ma. I was convinced that she didn't know what she was missing.

As we sat around the supper table that night, my mind was still on the subject. "Pa, would you like to have a servant?"

"A what?"

"A servant. Someone to do your work for you."

"I don't mind having a hired hand at harvesttime, but I don't want someone doing my work," pa replied. "What would I do?"

Reuben was quick to offer some suggestions. "You could spend some time fishing, and some time just sitting around the house..."

"Not my house, you couldn't," ma put in quickly. "I have enough to do without working around useless bodies. Now if you were old and feeble, I'd let you sit by the stove and chuck a piece of wood in now and then. But you're not, thank the Lord."

No one seemed to agree with me, so I didn't say anything more. I thought a lot about it, though, until an unusual happening straightened out my thinking.

A few days before school was out, Sarah Jane met me at the end of our lane. "Mabel! Have I got some news for you! You'll never believe it!"

"What? What is it?"

Sarah Jane was jumping up and down. "You just won't believe it!"

"Oh, for goodness' sake, Sarah Jane. Are you going to tell me or not?"

"Of course I'm going to tell you! Just give me a chance. My cousin Laura has asked me to come to the city for a week as soon as school is out. She wants you to come, too. My ma is going to ask your folks tonight. What do you think of that?"

Sarah Jane was right. I didn't believe her. I had never been away from home that long in iny life. The thought of visiting the city took my breath away.

"Do you think your folks will let you go?" Sarah Jane was saying.

"Oh, I hope so! I'll be good for the rest of my life if they will!"

"I don't think I'd mention that if I were you. Parents have a way of thinking you ought to be good without getting paid for it."

I nodded in agreement, and we walked on to school. All that day, I wondered if ma and pa would say yes. That evening when Sarah Jane's mother came over, I was sure the answer would be no.

But it wasn't! If Laura's parents really wanted two houseguests, I could go. The next few days were a flurry of getting ready.

"I'll only need to take my very best summer dresses, ma," I told her, "and my good shoes."

"What do you plan to wear to play in?" she asked me. "You can't run around outside in your good clothes."

"I don't think you run around outside in the city," I replied. "I think you just dress up and look pretty."

"That could get old in a hurry. You'd better take a few things, just in case."

My box was packed and repacked several times before the Monday arrived to leave.

"If you don't stand still," ma warned me that morning, "I won't have your hair combed by the time the Clarks get here. You don't want to keep them waiting, do you?"

I didn't, nor did I want to wait myself. So I stood as still as possible while ma finished getting me ready. I couldn't eat any breakfast, but ma insisted that I drink the hot cocoa.

Finally Sarah Jane and her folks arrived, and we were on our way to the city.

"Can you imagine having someone do everything for you?" I said to Sarah Jane. "We'll be real ladies, won't we?"

"Oh, yes. I don't think I'll ever want to come back home. I won't make a bed, or do a dish, or dust a chair all the time we're here. Laura's mama even has a seamstress to do her mending!"

"Her 'mama'?" I inquired.

"That's what Laura calls her. It's more stylish, you know. She calls her pa 'papa,' too."

I couldn't imagine acting stylish when I returned home, not with Roy and Reuben around. But I would remember how they lived in the city. Maybe, when I had a home of my own...

We arrived at our destination before dusk. As we climbed down from the buggy, I regarded the big house with awe.

"It has three whole floors! Do they live on all of them?"

"Certainly," Sarah Jane assured me. "We'll sleep on the top one. There's a library and a music room, too, and a big yard to play in. I've never stayed here before, but I visited once with my folks."

We were ushered into a large hallway, and Laura came to meet us. "Oh, good," she exclaimed. "You're here in time for dinner. Come on in!"

I opened my mouth to say that we had eaten dinner at noon; then closed it again. Something told me that the less I said, the better off I'd be.

But when we were seated in a big dining room, lighted with gas lamps, I could no longer contain my curiosity.

"Where does Laura's mama fix her meals?" I whispered to Sarah Jane."

"She doesn't. The cook fixes them."

"But where?"

"In the kitchen, of course," Sarah Jane said. "It's downstairs."

"In the cellar?" I squeaked, and then blushed when everyone looked at me.

"It's not called the cellar," Sarah Jane explained. "It's the lower floor. We'll see it tomorrow."

We were taken to our room very early. Once we crawled into the strange bed, I lay for a long time looking at the ceiling.

"Sarah Jane," I said at last, "when do they eat supper here?"

"We just finished eating it a little while ago. Don't you remember?"

"But Laura called that dinner. At home we eat dinner at noon."

"Oh! Well, they call supper 'dinner,' and they call dinner 'luncheon,"' she explained. "You get the same stuff to eat, though."

That really didn't make good sense to me. But I decided if I were going to grow up to be a society lady, I'd better learn some of the finer points. I fell asleep thinking about eating in ma's warm kitchen with the good smells of food cooking and wood burning.

The following morning as we watched Sarah Jane's folks drive off toward home, my heart sank. I almost wished I were going, too. The feeling only lasted a few moments, though, for Laura soon hurried us off to shop in the big stores.

"Don't lag behind me, girls," she warned, "or you'll get lost. You may never find the front door again."

"I think that might be the truth," Sarah Jane said. "We'd better keep an eye on her."

We didn't lose Laura. But we didn't see much that was in the store, either. She moved through the many aisles as if she were running a race. We were both glad to be back at the house, protected by the big spiked fence that surrounded it.

"This house doesn't really look very lived in, does it?" I asked as we sat on the steps.

"I guess it isn't, not as much as ours," Sarah Jane admitted. "Laura is out a lot, and her mama goes calling every day. Her papa works in a big office so he never comes home, except to eat at night and sleep."

"Why don't we go out to the barn?" I suggested. "Animals would remind us of home."

"That's not a barn," Sarah Jane sighed. "It's a carriage house. All it has is horses and buggies."

I was stunned. "No cows? No chickens? Where do they get their milk and eggs?"

"Buy'em. They buy everything, or else have someone else make it for them. I always thought that would be sort of nice. But there's something nice about a big barn with cows bumping around in it."

I heartily agreed with her. Gloom settled over us as we thought about the days ahead.

We did have nice times, though. Laura and her folks did their best to make us happy. Nevertheless, when the Clarks's buggy came into sight at the end of our visit, both Sarah Jane and I were ready to start for home. I could hardly wait for the buggy to drive up our lane.

"Oh, ma!" I cried when I finally burst into our kitchen. "Are you glad I'm back?"

Ma grabbed me and gave me a big hug. "I should say I am. It's been too quiet around here with no one helping me. Did you happen to bring a servant back with you?"

I shook my head. "We're not hard up at all, ma. They don't have any food or milk or anything unless they buy it. We have it right here free! And they never get to eat in the kitchen, or sit by the cookstove, or walk in the woods. I'd rather be right here with you and pa and the boys."

"Good," ma said. "I was hoping you'd feel that way. People live all different kinds of lives. But this is where God has placed us, and I'm glad you're happy with it. You can tell us all about your visit at suppertime."

"Supper will really taste good tonight," I said as I started toward my room. "I haven't had one since I left home!"

ONE AFTERNOON as grandma and I were looking at some old pictures in her album, I noticed something strange. There were no casual photographs like the ones I was used to seeing. They all looked as though they had been taken in a studio.

"Most of our pictures were," grandma said when I pointed this out to her. "Families didn't usually have cameras of their own. They were too expensive. Often visiting photographers came around to take our pictures."

She turned one of the photographs over. "Some of them were printed on postcards that could be sent through the mail. Like this one. But most of our pictures were on heavy

cardboard for framing or mounting in an album.

"We didn't have a lot of pictures taken, but I think we have some of everyone in the family.

"I wish you had one of Pep," I said. "He really was a nice old dog, wasn't he?"

"We thought so," grandma agreed. "All of us talked to him as though he could understand every word we said. Come to think of it," she added, "I believe he did know what we were talking about. He was just like a little child, though. If it didn't suit him to understand, he wouldn't. If it was to his advantage, he had no trouble at all.

"Ma would sometimes get awfully annoyed with him—especially when he tracked up her floor or tried to sneak into the boys' room. But I remember one time when she actually hugged him!"

"He must have done something pretty special," I said. "What was it?"

Grandma eased back in her rocking chair, and I knew she would tell me another story....

When it was cold, Pep was allowed to sleep on a rug beside the stove. Ma wasn't entirely in favor of that arrangement. But the boys and I pleaded his cause, and pa was on our side.

"He doesn't take up much room," he said. "As long as he behaves himself I don't see why he shouldn't stay in at night, now that he's getting older."

So ma consented, and we were pleased. Pep seemed to know that his good fortune depended upon his behavior. He was a model dog on cold winter nights.

One evening in late fall, we were sitting around the supper table. Pep was lying on his rug near the stove. He had his nose between his paws, and he appeared to be asleep. Reuben looked at him fondly.

"Do you remember when we brought Pep home?" he asked ma.

"Brought him home?" I asked. "I don't remember when he wasn't already here."

Reuben looked disgusted. "Of course you don't, silly. You were only two years old. We didn't even live in this house then."

Ma laughed. "You can be sure I remember. I almost killed the poor thing before I knew what it was."

"Oh, ma!" I gasped. "How could you?"

"It certainly wasn't on purpose. The boys had been down the road to the Gibbs's place. Reuben was only about six years old. When Mr. Gibbs offered him a puppy, he accepted happily. He never thought to ask us about it."

"That's right," Reuben put in. "The puppy was so small and cute: I just knew we had to have him."

A thump on the floor told us that Pep was listening, even though he didn't open his eyes.

Reuben continued. "On the way home Roy mentioned that ma might not let us keep him. I hadn't even thought of that. But the closer we got to home, the more likely it seemed.

"I decided to get him in the house without ma seeing him. We could save enough from our meals to feed him, and we could keep him hidden in our room."

"The boys slept up in the loft," ma explained, "above the kitchen. Somehow Reuben managed to sneak that puppy up the ladder and into the loft. That evening when it was time for pa and me to go to bed, I went up the ladder with a light. I always checked to be sure the boys were covered. I set the light down by the bed, and leaned over to pull Reuben's quilts up. Suddenly, the blankets at the foot of his bed began to bob up and down.

"'Oh, James!' I hollered. 'Come quick! There's a rat in Reuben's bed!'

"I grabbed the first thing that came to hand, and began beating on the lump in the bed. If there hadn't been so many covers over him, I would have knocked that poor dog senseless.