CHAPTER IV
MAKING THE BEST OF IT
"I don't know where to put another thing," said Mrs. Wyndham, pushingaside a hat-box to sit beside it on the rocker, and casting adespairing glance from the shallow closet, already full, to the floor,covered with the heterogeneous contents of two trunks, in the midst ofwhich Barbara was sitting.
It had been decided that Bab, as the liveliest member of the family,should share her mother's room; and a compact was drawn up solemnlypledging Barbara to keep a sharp lookout for symptoms of "blues" inher mother, and, if necessary, take as vigorous measures against themas the immortal Jerry Cruncher used to prevent his wife "flopping."The Wyndhams had taken possession of their new quarters but two hoursearlier, and forceful measures against slight despondency were notconsidered yet in order.
A scream from the next room prevented Bab replying to her mother, andNixie bounded through the open door, triumphantly worrying a slipper.He recognized Barbara, and dropped his prize to bestow several rapidkisses on the nose he had been the means of damaging before Bab, fromher disadvantage-point on the floor, could stop him.
Tom Leighton appeared immediately behind his dog, calling Nixie withno result, for Bab had her arms around the wriggling black bit ofenthusiasm, hugging him hard and begging his master to let him stay.
"Mama, this is the doctor who repaired me so nicely. DoctorLeighton--my mother," said Barbara.
"Please don't think me intrusive, Mrs. Wyndham," said Tom, steppingforward to take the delicate hand extended to him. "I am the son ofJohn Leighton, a friend of your husband, and I wanted to ask if I couldbe of use in getting you in order. I'm a jack-of-all-trades, and havebeen boarding long enough to have learned dodges."
"I remember your father," said Mrs. Wyndham, cordially. "It is verypleasant to find a friend among strangers. I don't see what you cando, unless you can build a closet. This tiny cubby Bab and I mustshare is already overflowing, yet just look!" And Mrs. Wyndham made acomprehensive gesture toward the littered floor.
"I suppose we've too many clothes, but we don't dare give away onething, because we may never be able to get any more, and we're goingto buy patent patterns and make over this stock until we're old andgray. I expect that to be soon, however, if I have to sew," said Bab,scrambling to her feet and tossing up Nixie's purloined slipper for himto catch.
"A dog broke and entered--entered any way--and stole Jessamy'sslipper--oh, I beg pardon!" said Phyllis, stopping short in the doorwayat the unexpected apparition of Tom.
"My niece, Miss Phyllis Wyndham--and my elder daughter Jessamy, DoctorLeighton," added Mrs. Wyndham, as Jessamy followed Phyllis.
"I came to ask if you had any idea of what Jessamy and I could dowith our things, auntie," said Phyllis. "We haven't begun to make animpression on the room, yet the closet and drawers are full."
"Bab and I are in the same plight; how do people get on in such narrowspace?" sighed Mrs. Wyndham.
"You'll have to have a wigwam," said Tom.
"A wigwam! That would have no closet at all; besides, where could webuild it in New York?" laughed Phyllis.
"In that corner; I'll make it," said Tom. "It's a corner shelf, withhooks in the under side and a curtain around it. It's the only kind ofcloset I have, for my room is a hall bedroom. You can keep things dustwon't hurt in there. Then you want a divan--a woven-wire cot-bed, withthe legs cut off, fastened by hinges to a box made to fit it. We couldupholster it between us. It would be larger than the ready-made divans,and hold more; you'll be surprised to see what it holds. Then, if oneof you were ill, it would be useful as a couch."
"There spoke the doctor," said Jessamy. "A couch is always useful. Isuppose we shall have to have a trunk in each room besides," she addedruefully.
"If you could bring yourself to part with that table, you could set thetrunk--the flat-topped one--in the window, and I could case it in withwhite pine; we'd cover it all over with felt, and it wouldn't be a verybad-looking book-stand," said Tom.
"Well, you are a genius!" cried Bab, in open admiration.
Phyllis sang softly under her breath, to the tune of "St. Patrick's Dayin the Morning":
"All hail to the doctor who seems to be able To mend up a nose, or to make up a table! We gladly would cheer him, but that it seems risky, For cheers in a boarding-house may be too frisky."
"Well, I never!" laughed Tom. "Say, was that--of course it had tobe--improvised?"
"Oh, Phyl is a genius," said Jessamy, proudly. "One of these days hername will be in all the magazines, and at last in the encyclopedia."
"And maybe in oblivion," added Phyl. "What time do you--do we dine,Doctor Leighton?"
"At six; I suppose you want to get ready. It is your first appearancein a boarding-house dining-room; you must make a strong impression."
"Yes, and only look at my court-plaster! Nixie, your first impressionwas too strong," groaned Bab.
"You mustn't let Nixie bother you; he'll try to be friendly," warnedTom.
"Let him, and his master, too," said Mrs. Wyndham, heartily. "You willboth cheer us, and I appreciate your kindness very fully."
"Not a bit kindness, ma'am," said Tom, promptly. "I tell you, you don'tknow how forlorn a boy is alone in a boarding-house. It does me good toget a home breath again."
"We'll help each other if we can," said Mrs. Wyndham, gently. "Youcan't be more than a year or so older than my girls, and a nice boywill be a welcome addition to storm-tossed lassies' lives."
"Not to mention Nixie; _dogs_ are so dear," said Bab, with a slight,naughty emphasis on "dogs."
Tom and Nixie departed, followed by praise from all the Wyndhams.Fifteen minutes later a gong sounded through the house, and Mrs.Wyndham and the girls made their long descent into the basement.
Two tables ran the full length of the dining-room, at the first ofwhich the newcomers took their places. A severe old lady, presentedto them as Mrs. Hardy, sat at its head, beside Mrs. Wyndham. Shedemanded--and so received--more attention than any one else in thehouse; her favorite theme was her past splendors and the dignity of heracquaintances. Opposite Mrs. Wyndham sat a big, kindly-looking man,who said he was "just in" from a Western trip, thus revealing himselfa traveling salesman. He was pathetically fond of his two overgrown,ill-mannered children, and deprecating toward his peevish wife, who,with the elegance brought from her early apprenticeship to a milliner,assumed superiority to her less pretentious husband, thus keeping himin wholesome abeyance and general readiness to endow her with ornaments.
Three over-dressed, painfully vivacious girls in a row completed theline opposite the Wyndhams, with a big man at the other end of thetable, who combated with a sort of fury every proposition made by anyone else. Beside him sat a widow who was a bookkeeper in a departmentstore, and who looked utterly worn out and anemic. Two school-teachers,middle-aged and drab of complexion, with the aggressive air of womenwho had from girlhood fought the world to maintain a foothold in it,filled in the line between the wilted widow and Jessamy.
The girls were too young to realize all that these melancholy typesstood for, but their poor mother felt, with utter heartsickness, thatthis was the fate of those whom poverty made homeless and forced tostruggle for existence.
The second table was filled with men of varying degrees of youth,solitary and unattached, some of whom lived under the roof, but themajority came in from outside for meals only, thus belonging to theclass designated as "table boarders."
This table almost to a man stared at Mrs. Wyndham and her threecharges, especially at Jessamy. Tom Leighton sat there, and Phyllis,who was quickest of the three to seize a situation, saw him flush withannoyance, and guessed that they, and particularly Jessamy's beauty,were the subject of impertinent comment.
Bab was half amused and wholly excited by the new experience; therewas something she liked in rubbing elbows with such a singular world.But the sense of humor of all the others failed them, and they ate butlightly, pecking from the individual vegetable-dishes, which res
embledbirds' bath-tubs, with not much more appetite than the birds themselveswould have had.
Jessamy heard a loud whisper asking for "a knockdown to the beauty" asshe smiled and bowed to Tom Leighton in leaving the room, and Phylliswas stopped by the three resplendent maidens, who introduced themselvesas May Daly, Fanny Harmon, and Daisy Heimberger. "You just come?" theyasked--it seemed to Phyllis they all talked at once. "Say, ain't yoursister handsome? My, I think she's simply great! Too bad the other onegot cut so; must be her who fell up the steps yest'day when the youngdoc was goin' out. Mis' Black was tellin' us last night. Funny way tomeet! Do you know any of the other young gentlemen? They're awful nice,but I s'pose we won't have any chance now you've come!" This with agiggle that showed doubt of her own prediction. "They take us girls tothe theater real often Sat'day nights--not doc, though; do you knowhim?"
"Mrs. Wyndham's husband and his father were friends," said Phyllis,prudently. It was the first time in her short life it had occurred toher to explain her actions.
"Well, come see us; we've got a room with two beds on the third floor."And Phyllis noticed, as they nodded good night, that each wore twobuttons bearing photographs of the other two members of their trio.
"Very likely they are nice in their way--poor things!" she thought;"and share comforts and sorrows--but, oh, dear!" And she followed herfamily sadly up the stairs.
Their own rooms looked very peaceful and refined to the Wyndhams whenthey got back to them, and Phyllis and Barbara felt comforted when thedoor was closed behind them; but Jessamy sank into a chair in blankdespondency, and her mother could not smile at Bab's wildest sallies.
"First aid to the injured!" cried a cheery voice, and Ruth Wells burstinto the gloom--"like an arc-light," Barbara said, jumping up to hugher rapturously.
"No, don't; I've tacks and a hammer here," said Ruth, struggling free."I knew you had no closets, or none worth calling one, so I came toshow you how to make a charity."
"A what?" asked Jessamy.
"A charity; it covers a multitude of things, you see," laughed Ruth."You take a board--we can get one down-stairs, probably--saw it off tothe right length, and put it in a corner. Then you drive hooks--"
"In the under side--we know," interrupted Phyllis. "Only DoctorLeighton says it is a wigwam."
"Mama, let me call that boy; we'll have a bee--a be-autiful time, too,"cried Bab, springing up. "I wonder if I could get him." And she lookedwistfully out of the door.
By a strange chance, Tom's door happened to be open. "Do you want me?"he called, seeing the eager little face he had patched up so carefully.
"Yes. Ruth Wells has come, and we're going to make a wigwam, onlyshe calls it a charity, because, she says, it covers a multitude ofthings," said Bab. "Nixie too; come, Nix."
"I don't know who Ruth Wells is, but we shall be glad to come,"responded Tom, with alacrity.
In five minutes the little room was ringing with fun. The "charitablewigwam"--Phyllis's compromise on the name--could not be made forlack of boards, but the young people managed to cover up the dismalimpressions of their first experience of the bleak side of life, andthat was making a real charity, as Jessamy pointed out in bidding Ruthgood night.
The wigwam was made in the end, the divan too, and the Wyndhams beganto learn to adjust themselves to the new conditions. Tom had becomealmost one of themselves, and Nixie a necessity and no longer a luxury,as Bab noted. Tom was such a bright, honest, boyish young creature thatno greater piece of good fortune could well have befallen the girls intheir new trouble than his friendship--a fact their mother recognizedgratefully. As to Tom himself, the motherly kindness of Mrs. Wyndhamand the sweet, frank companionship of the girls were a boon to theyoung fellow, who had loved his own mother and sisters well.
Bab and he were the best comrades, but he admired beautiful Jessamy,and was not less proud of her than the girls were; and Phyllis heregarded from the first with affectionate reverence, as the embodimentof perfect maidenhood.
Winter was coming on, and for the first time in their lives theWyndhams tried to make old answer for new in the matter of garments.
"Not a penny must be spent this season," declared Jessamy, sternly. "Ayear hence we may earn new clothes."
All the summer garments had been laid away in the new divan. "Neverthrow away a winter thing in the spring, nor a summer thing in thefall," advised Ruth, that little woman wise in ways and means. "Youcan't tell how anything looks out of its season, nor what you may want.Set up a scrap-box, and tuck everything into it; it's ten to one you'llbe grateful for the very thing you thought least hopeful. Many a timeI've all but hugged an old faded ribbon because its one bright part wasjust the right shade and length to line a collar."
The scrap-box was therefore established, and easily filled from a stocknot yet depleted. Jessamy's artistic talents developed in the directionof hats. Ruth taught her to take the long wrists of light suedegloves which were past wearing, and stretch them over a frame for thefoundation of especially pretty hats.
Jessamy made three hats, one for each of them, with crowns of old glovewrists and velvet puffs around the brims; and in the new scrap-box shefound quills and ribbons and flowers to trim them, so that all threewere different, yet each "a James Dandy," according to Tom Leighton'sauthoritative verdict.
Dressmaking was a more serious matter, but the three Wyndhams essayedit with the courage of ignorance. Ruth brought down mysterious browntissue-paper patterns--"perforated to confuse the innocent," Babsaid--and announced that she had come for a dress parade. Her friendswere still too unversed in being poor to realize that when she came tothem Ruth was sacrificing her own good for theirs, since her time meantmoney, and little Ruth's pockets jingled only when she spent long daysat her needle.
"Get out all your last year's glories," commanded Ruth, perched on thefootboard of Jessamy's and Phyllis's bed. "That's a pretty dark-bluecloth suit; whose is that?"
"Phyllis's; it was nice, but she tried it on the other day, and it'stoo full in the skirt," said Jessamy.
"I don't believe I'd dare touch anything so tailor-made; if we ripit we shall never be able to give it the same finish. I'll tell you,Phyllis; we can take out the gathers and lay a box-pleat in the back;that will make it look flatter and more in the present style," criedRuth, with sudden illumination. "Now isn't it true that there's goodblown to some one on all winds? If you didn't have stoves in yourrooms, you wouldn't have any place to heat irons; and don't I know theimpossibility of getting a flatiron from the lower regions when one isboarding?"
"Infernal regions do you mean, when you say 'lower'?" inquired Tom,from the doorway.
"Go away! This is a feminine occasion; no boys allowed," cried Ruth.
"Mysteries of Isis?" suggested Tom. "I only want a buttonhole sewed up;wouldn't the goddess allow that?"
"Yes," said Phyllis, holding out her hand for the collar Tom was wavingappealingly. "It is rather in the line of the service about to begin inthis temple. We are going into dressmaking."
"You'll succeed; you can do anything," said Tom, watching Phyllis'sfingers as she twitched the thread in a scientific manner to drawthe gaping buttonhole together. "Those laundry people apparently drycollars by hanging them upon crowbars thrust through the buttonholes.Couldn't I help with your dressmaking? I know there are bones inwaists, and maybe I could set them."
The four girls groaned. "Such a pale, feeble little jokelet!" sighedBab. "Take it to the hospital to be measured for crutches."
"Here's your collar. Run away and play with the other little boys;we're busy. By and by, if you're good, we may let you take outbastings," said Phyllis.
"Jupiter! That sounds familiar," sighed Tom. "My mother used to sayjust that when I was seven. Much obliged for the collar. When you wantme for the bastings sing out, and I'll pardon your impertinence inconsideration of service rendered." And Tom disappeared.
"Phyl will do very well with the blue, then," said Ruth, resumingpracticalities. "What are your prospects, Other Two
?"
"I had this gray, and I loved it," said Jessamy, smoothing achinchilla-trimmed jacket fondly. "I think it isn't hurt at all, and Ishouldn't dare touch it."
"There's a spot on the back where you leaned up against somethinggreasy, but French chalk will make it all right," said Ruth, issuingher mandates from her perch like a mounted general at the head of anarmy.
"Mine was brown, with mink," said Barbara, sadly; "but I spilledsomething, sometime--I don't know what or when--on the front of theskirt, and I don't see what you can do with it; I haven't a smidge ofthe goods."
"A what?" murmured Ruth, absent-mindedly, wrinkling her brow over theproblem. "Tailor-made or not, we shall have to rip that skirt and putin a breadth of something else; and it will never look right--No, Ihave it!" she cried, interrupting herself and sliding to her feet witha triumphant little shout.
"Eureka, Miss Archimedes! What is it?" asked Phyllis.
"Braid!" cried Ruth. "We'll get narrowest silk soutache--Jessamy shalldraw a design--and you shall braid the entire front breadth of yourskirt, Bab, resolving with each stitch to be neater in the future."
"I never saw such cleverness!" cried Jessamy, admiringly, while Babmade a wry face over the prospect.
"And now for house wear," said Ruth. "Here are some pretty light silks;the skirts are good, but the waists are worn out."
"I thought, perhaps, we could make fancy waists of the skirts to wearwith our cloth gowns," said Phyllis, doubtfully, turning over a heap oflight colors.
"Could? Why, of course we can. Let's rip them now," said Ruth, whippingout her own little scissors with alacrity. The four pairs of handsmade quick work of the ripping, and Ruth cut out three waists by thetissue-paper patterns she had brought, pinned and basted them together,and left her friends to carry out her instructions.
Phyllis proved most adept at the new art; Jessamy succeeded fairly, butBab had a dreadful time with her waist. Seams puckered and drew askewbecause of her reckless way of sewing them up in various widths, yetshe felt aggrieved when the waist proved one-sided on trying on. And asto sleeves, Bab's would not go in with anything approaching civilityand decorum. The poor child ripped, basted, tried on, ripped again,refusing all help in her proud determination to be independent, tillher cheeks were purple, and she threw the waist down in despair andcried forlornly.
Tom surprised her in this tempest, and laughed at her until she longedto flay him. Then, sincerely repentant for having aggravated her woes,he humbly begged her pardon, and took her out for a walk with Nixie tocool her cheeks and calm her ruffled nerves. When she returned, Phyllishad taken it upon herself to disregard her wishes, and had bastedin the refractory sleeves for her, which, like everything else, hadyielded to Phyllis's charm and gone meekly into place. From this pointBab's path was smooth before her, and the last of the three waists,the first attempt of the girls at practical work, was brought to atriumphant finish.
There was real pleasure in using their wits in these things, the girlsfound; there was truly a bright side to poverty. But the ugly sideremained--the jealousy of the three girls who were their oppositesat table, as well as literally, and who disliked the Wyndhams fortheir difference in accent, manners, birth, for their unlikeness tothemselves, for which neither side was to blame nor to praise.
And Mrs. Wyndham was ailing, fretting her heart out over the presentsituation and her poor girls' future. And--hardest of all to bear--thelandlady made them feel that she considered the rate of their boardinsufficient to remunerate her for the immense, though to themimperceptible, generosity with which she served them.
But the most serious aspect of the anxieties closing in around theWyndhams was that, in spite of all their prudence, money slipped away,laundry bills took on alarming proportions, and they had never dreamedhow fast five-cent car fares could swell into as many dollars. Althoughthey had taken care to make their expenditures come well within theirincome, they saw that there was not going to be enough to meet anemergency should it arise, and Jessamy and Phyllis talked till midnightmany a night discussing how they could put their young shoulders to thewheel and join the great army of wage-earners.
The Wyndham Girls Page 4