Janice Day, the Young Homemaker

by Helen Beecher Long

  CHAPTER VIII. THEY COME AND GO

  "Daddy, do you mind if we have dinner a little early thisevening?" Janice asked.

  "I have my appetite with me, if that is what you want to know,"said Broxton Day, smiling down upon her.

  "Well, Delia has it all ready, I think. Too early, of course."

  "Bring it on!" cried her father jovially. "I can do it justice."

  Janice wondered if he could. Already the food, she knew, wasdrying up in the warming oven. She hurried out into the kitchen.Delia had not come in from the backyard. Janice shrank frominterfering with that back-fence conference; but she could notsee daddy's dinner spoiled.

  "Come, Delia!" she called, opening the door. "My father has comehome."

  "Oh, my! Is your paw arrived?" asked the giantess; cominglingeringly away from the fence.

  Janice saw Miss Peckham's snappy little eyes viewing her at thekitchen door with no pleasant expression. She felt that somethingwas brewing--something that would not be pleasant. But thespinster retired without speaking to her.

  "You have dinner ready very early, Delia," Janice said, as thebig woman lumbered into the kitchen.

  "Didn't you just say your paw had come?" demanded Delia in hersqueaky voice.

  "Yes. But you have everything ready at five o'clock instead ofat six."

  "Oh, yes. I don't never believe in keepin' folks waitin' fortheir victuals," said Delia, tossing her head. "You ain't gotany call to be critical--no you ain't."

  It was of no use! Janice saw that as plainly as she sawanything. This giantess has a dwarf's brain. As daddy said,when he became particularly "Yankeefied," "she didn't knowbeans!" It would be quite useless to talk to her, or to expecther to remember what she was told to do.

  "I will do all I can to hide the rough corners from Daddy,"Janice thought. "I'll watch Delia before I go to school, andcome home from school to straighten her out just as quickly as Ican. I just won't run to him with every little householdtrouble."

  But it was a wretched dinner. It was so badly cooked that daddyshook his head over it mournfully.

  "It is a mystery to me how they manage to boil one potato to mushwhile another is so hard you can't stick your fork into it," hesaid. "And no seasoning! This steak now--or is it steak?"

  "Now, Daddy!" said Janice, half laughing, yet feeling a good deallike crying.

  "Well, I wasn't quite sure," said her father. "I wonder if thesecooks think that meat grows, all seasoned, on 'the critter'?They must believe that. However, does she do the other workwell?"

  "I--I don't know yet," murmured Janice. "I'll help her all Ican, Daddy, and tell her how, if she'll let me."

  "Well, maybe we can make something of her," said Broxton Day,with his hearty and cheerful laugh. "Remember, Olga wanted toboil fresh pork chops for our breakfast when she first came."

  "I do wish we knew where Olga had gone to," said Janice. "Itdoesn't seem as though that girl would deliberately steal. Ican't believe it. And if we don't get back that treasure-box andwhat it contains, Daddy, my heart will--just--be--broken."

  "There, there! Don't give way about it. There is a chance yet offinding Olga--and the box, too," said her father, trying tocomfort his little daughter. "I will not give up the search.Willie Sangreen will of course come back to his job, and he mustknow what has become of Olga. Those Swedes are very clannishindeed, over there at Pickletown; but some of them bank with us,and I am sure they will be on the lookout for the

  girl. Only, of course, I have not told them why I am so anxiousto find her."

  They finished dinner, and Delia came in to clear away, with herplump lips pouting and a general air about her of having beenmuch injured. But Mr. Day, now so used to the vagaries of hiredhelp, made no comment.

  He and Janice went into the living-room. This, at least, washomelike and clean. He settled into his chair and picked up thepaper. Just then there was a ring at the front doorbell.

  Janice would have jumped up to answer it; but she heard thegiantess going through the hall. There was a voice. Janicerecognized it with a start. Then the giantess approached theliving-room door, heavy footed, with a clatter of smallerbootheels behind her.

  Delia threw open the door as Mr. Day dropped his paper to lookup. Her fat face was wreathed in a triumphant smile, and shesaid:

  "It's the nice lady from nex' door. I guess she come to see yourpaw about them cats."

  Mr. Day looked puzzled.

  Janice could have screamed as Miss Peckham marched in. Deliaapparently intended to stand in the doorway and enjoy whateverthere was to enjoy; but as Mr. Day rose from his seat to welcomethe neighbor, he said firmly:

  "Thank you, Delia. We shall not need you in here at present.You may go."

  The giantess tossed her head and lumbered out of the room,slamming the door behind her with unnecessary violence.

  "Good-evening, Miss Peckham," said the man, offering the spinstera chair. "I don't know just what Delia meant about cats; but Ipresume you will explain."

  "Huh!" snapped Miss Peckham, "I guess that girl of yours hasn'ttold you about what she done to my Sam. No, indeed! I guess not!"

  She was evidently working herself up into a violent state ofmind, and Mr. Day, who knew his next door

  neighbor very well, hastened to smooth the troubled waters.

  "I had not heard anything about cats, Miss Peckham, save themisfortune of a cat convention in our back kitchen yesterdaymorning. Janice told me about that, of course; but she couldscarcely be blamed for it."

  "I don't know why she shouldn't be blamed!" ejaculated the angrywoman. "And my Sam's got a broken leg."

  "I am sorry if any of the cats were injured. It was athoughtless joke of--" he caught Janice's eye and understood hermeaning, "of one of the neighbor's boys He meant no particularharm, I fancy."

  "You needn't try an' lay it on no boy!" exclaimed Miss Peckham.'"Twas a girl done it. My Sam--"

  "You mean that a girl broke the cat's leg?" queried Mr. Day,quietly.

  "I mean just that. 'Twas a girl. And that is the girl!" and shepointed an accusing finger at the flushed Janice.

  "Oh, I never!" exclaimed the latter under her breath, and shakingher head vigorously.

  Mr. Day gave her a smiling look of encouragement.

  "I feel sure," he said, to Miss Peckham, "that if Janice had bychance injured an animal--a cat, or any other--she would havetold me. But although it may have been a girl who broke yourcat's leg, it was not Janice."

  "You don't know anything about it!" cried Miss Peckham angrily."You don't know what goes on here all day long while you aregone. I pity you, Mr. Day--I pity you from the bottom of myheart. You ought to have a woman here to manage this girl ofyours. That's what you need!"

  "Oh!" gasped Janice, her color receding now. She was very angry.

  "Ah! don't you flout me, Janice Day!" exclaimed the spinster,eyeing Janice malevolently. "I know how bad you act. I don'tlive right next door for nothin'. An' 'tisn't only at home youact badly, but on the street. Fighting with boys like a hoodlum.Oh, I heard about it!"

  "Wait! Wait!" exclaimed Mr. Day, with sternness. "I think youare out of bounds, Miss Peckham. I do not ask you to tell me howto take care of my little daughter. And I am sure I do notbelieve that you are rightly informed about her actions, even ifyou do live next door."

  Miss Peckham sniffed harder and tossed her head. "Let us getback to the cats," he went on quietly. "Have you found that oneof your cats has been hurt?"

  "His leg's broke. The doctor said it was a most vicious blow.He's put it in a cast, and poor Sam is quite wild."

  "But why do you blame Janice?"

  "She done it!" exclaimed the spinster nodding her shawled headvigorously. "She ought to be looked after."

  "No, Janice did not hurt the cat," said Mr. Day with assurance,"unfortunately the cat was hurt on our premises. But it was thegirl working for us, not my little girl, who injured your cat."

  "What do you
mean?" demanded Miss Peckham sharply. "Not this bigthing you've got here--the one that let me in?"

  "The Swedish girl," explained Mr. Day. "The cats were shut intoour back kitchen, and before Janice could open the door to letthem out, Olga, I believe, pelted them with coal."

  "But what did she shut 'em up in the kitchen for?' demanded MissPeckham, still pointing and glaring at Janice.

  "Oh, I didn't!" exclaimed the latter, shaking her headvigorously.

  "That was not my daughter's doings," Mr. Day repeated. "As I tellyou, your cat was undoubtedly hurt on our premises. If I can doanything to satisfy you--pay the doctor's bill, or the like--"

  "I don't want money from you, Broxton Day," exclaimed

  the woman rising. "I didn't come here for that purpose. I camehere to tell you that your house is goin' to rack and ruin andthat your girl needs a strong hand to manage her. That's whatshe needs. You ain't had no proper home here since your wifedied."

  "I fear that is only too true, Miss Peckham," replied Mr. Day.

  "If Mrs. Day knew how things was goin' she'd turn in her grave, Ido believe," went on the neighbor, perhaps not wholly inbitterness.

  The man's face paled. Miss Peckham did not know how much she wasadding to the burden of sorrow in the hearts of Broxton Day andhis little daughter. Janice was sobbing now, with her facehidden.

  "What you need is an intelligent woman to take hold," went on theneighbor, warming to her subject. "Take this creature you gotnow. Ugh! Big elephant, and don't scarcely know enough to comein when it rains, I do believe."

  "The class of people one finds at the agencies is admittedly notof a high order of intelligence," said Mr. Day softly.

  "I should say they weren't--if them you've had is samples,"sniffed Miss Peckham. "Why don't you get somebody decent?"

  "I wish you would tell me how to go about getting a betterhouseworker," sighed Mr. Day.

  "Get a working housekeeper--one that's trained and isrespectable. Somebody to overlook--"

  "But I cannot afford two servants," the man hastened to submit.

  "I ain't suggesting another servant. Somebody that respectsherself too much to be called a servant. Of course it's hard tofind the right party.

  "However, some women can do it. And that is the kind you need,Broxton Day. Somebody who will be firm with your girl, here,too."

  "I am afraid," said Janice's father quietly, "that the sort ofperson you speak of is beyond my means; perhaps such a marvel isnot in the market at all," and he

  smiled again. "Thank you for your interest, Miss Peckham."

  He rose again to see her to the door. The spinster might haveconsidered remaining longer and offering further advice; butdaddy knew how to get rid of people quickly and cheerfully whentheir business was over.

  "Oh, Daddy! what a dreadful woman she is," sobbed Janice, when hecame back into the living-room.

  "Not so bad as that," he said, chuckling, and patting hershoulder comfortingly. "It is her way to make much of a little.You see, she did not want anything for her injured cat, shemerely wanted to come in and talk about it."

  "But--but, Daddy," confessed Janice, blushing deeply, "I reallydid fight Arlo Junior on the street. I boxed his ears."

  Mr. Day had great difficulty to keep from laughing, but Janicewas too absorbed in her troubles to notice it.

  "Well, well! Taking the law into your own hands, were you?"

  "Yes, Daddy. I guess it wasn't very ladylike. But I'm not ahoodlum!"

  "Why was it that you did not want me to mention Arlo Junior?"asked Mr. Day curiously.

  "Well, you see, I sort of promised him I wouldn't tell about whathe did to the cats, if he came in here Saturday and helped meclean that back kitchen."

  "Ho, ho! I see. Well, perhaps you are quite right to shield theyoung scamp under those circumstances," said her father, withtwinkling eyes.

  Mr. Day talked to his daughter for a while longer. He asked herabout her school work and her school pleasures, about what thegirls and boys in her circle of friends were doing. He tried tokeep in close touch with the motherless girl's interests, andespecially did he not want her to go to bed with sad andtroublous thoughts in her mind.

  After a cheerful and happy half hour Janice kissed her

  father good-night and went to her own room.

  Janice did all she could the next morning before going to schoolto start Delia right in the housework. But the giantess wasstill sullen and had much to say about "it comin' to a prettypass when children boss their elders."

  This was an objection that Janice had contended with before. Sheonly said, pleasantly:

  "When you have once learned just how we do things here, I sha'n'thave to tell you again, Delia. But wherever you go to work, youknow, you will have to learn the ways of the house."

  "I was doin' housework, I was, when you was in your cradle,"declared the woman.

  "But evidently not doing it just as we like to have it donehere," insisted Janice cheerfully. "Now, try to please daddy,Delia. Everything will be all right then."

  Delia only sniffed. She "sniffed" in a higher key than Janicehad ever heard anybody sniff before. Certainly Mrs. BridgetBurns was not turning out to be as mild creature as Janice hadfirst believed her to be. She could be stubborn.

  When she got to school that morning Janice found that there wasanother disturbing incident in the offing. Amy Carringfordsqueezed her arm as they hurried in to grammar recitation, andsmiled at her. But it was with gravity that she whispered inJanice's ear:

  "I guess I shall have to refuse Stella's invitation."

  "Oh, you must go!"

  "No, I can't go."

  "Don't dare say that, Amy!" responded Janice, earnestly. "Youhaven't told her you aren't coming, have you?"

  "No-o."

  "Don't you dare!" repeated Janice.

  "But--but, I don't see how I can--"

  "Wait! I'll tell you after school. Don't say a word to Stellaabout not going to the party. I tell you, if you don't go, Isha'n't!"

  "Oh, Janice!"

  There was no time for more whispering. Amy's big luminous eyeswere fixed on her friend a good deal through the severalrecitations they both attended. It was evident she was puzzled.

  At lunch hour Amy always ran home, for Mullen Lane-- at least,the end on which she lived--was not far. And, perhaps, she didnot care to join the girls who brought nice lunches in prettybaskets. So Janice could not talk with her new friend untilschool was out.

  Janice had determined to make a friend of Amy Carringford. Oh,yes, when Janice Day made up her mind to a thing she usually didit. And she had conceived a great liking for Amy, as well as adeep interest in the whole Carringford family.

  "Now, Janice, what did you mean?" Amy asked, as they set off fromthe schoolhouse with their books. "I just can't go to thatparty!"

  "Daddy says that it is a mistake to say that the word can't isnot in the dictionary, for it is--in the newer ones. But I amsure it ought not to be found in the 'bright lexicon ofyouth'--like 'fail,' you know," and Janice laughed.

  "You are just talking," giggled Amy, clinging to Janice's arm."I don't know what you mean."

  "You are going to know soon, my dear," returned Janice. "Comehome with me. Your mother won't mind, will she?"

  "No. I'll send word by Gummy."

  "My, that sounds almost like swearing--'by Gummy!' exclaimedJanice, her hazel eyes dancing. "And there Gummy goes. Grab himquick. Tell him you'll stay to supper."

  "Oh, no! I'll tell him I'll stay till supper," rejoined Amy, asshe ran after her brother.

  She caught up with Janice within half a block laughing andskipping. Never had Janice seen Amy so light-hearted. Even thethought that she could not go to the party at Stella Latham'shouse did not serve to make Amy sorrowful for long. And Janiceguessed why.

  Amy Carringford had been hungry for a close friend. PerhapsJanice was starved, too, for such companionship. At any rate,Amy responded to Janice's frie
ndliness just as a sunflowerresponds to the orb of the day and turns toward it.

  The two girls went on quite merrily toward the Day cottage atEight Hundred and Forty-five Knight Street. There was plenty tochatter about without even touching on the coming party. Janicehad plans about that.

  When the two came in sight of the Day house those plans --andalmost everything else--went out of Janice's head. There was ahigh, dusty, empty rubbish cart standing before the side gate ofthe Day premises; and from the porch a man in the usual khakiuniform of the Highway Department was bringing out a blackoilcloth bag which Janice very well remembered.

  "Oh, dear me! what can have happened?" Janice cried starting torun. "That is Delia's bag--the very one she brought with her."

  She arrived at the gate just as the man came through the opening.He was a dusty-faced man, with a bristling mustache, and great,overhanging brows. He looked very angry, too.

  "Oh, what is the matter?" asked Janice, as the man pitched theoilcloth bag into the cart, and turned back toward the houseagain.

  But he was not regarding at all the girl or her chum who then ranup. He turned to bellow in through the open door:

  "Hi! Come out o' that, Biddy Burns! Ye poor innocent! Sure, withyour two little children home cryin' all day alone and me atwork, ye should be ashamed of yerself, me gur-rl! If I was thekind of a feyther ye nade, I'd be wearin' a hairbrush out on ye,big and old as ye be. Come out o' that--or will I come in aftherye?"

  "Mercy me!" gasped Amy.

  "Oh! Oh!" exclaimed Janice, tugging at the man's

  sleeve, "what are you doing to Delia?"

  "'Delia,' is it? More of her foolishness. She's Biddy Burns,and her husband is dead--lucky man that he is. And I'm herfeyther and the grandfeyther of her two babies--Tessie and'Melia. And if she don't come home this minute with me, I'll putthe young ones in a home, so I will!"

  Delia, in the flounced dress, and weeping, just then appeared.She stumbled down the steps and came to the gate, blubbering likea child.

  "Sure, he says I've got to go ho-ome," sobbed the giantess."'Tis me father--he tells the truth. But I wanted to earn moneymyself. He never lets me do nothing I want to do!"

  "Ye big, foolish gur-rl!" ejaculated the man gruffly. "Was itworkin' for you she was, Miss?"

  "Yes," said Janice breathlessly.

  "And they had a pianny," sobbed Delia;. "'Twas be-a-utiful!"

  "You come home an' play on the washboard--that's the kind of apianny you nade to play on," grumbled her father. "I'm sorry forye," he added turning to Janice, "if your folks has to depend onthe likes of her to do the work. Sure, it's not right good sinseshe's got."

  He came behind the giantess suddenly and boosted her with strongarms up to the seat at the front of the wagon. Then he climbedup himself and the turnout rattled away heavily along the street.

  Delia's departure was one of the most astounding things that hadhappened to the Days during the months of their dependence uponitinerant houseworkers.