Understood Betsy

by Dorothy Canfield Fisher

  CHAPTER X

  BETSY HAS A BIRTHDAY

  Betsy's birthday was the ninth day of September, and the NecronsettValley Fair is always held from the eighth to the twelfth. So it wasdecided that Betsy should celebrate her birthday by going up toWoodford, where the Fair was held. The Putneys weren't going that year,but the people on the next farm, the Wendells, said they could make roomin their surrey for the two little girls; for, of course, Molly wasgoing, too. In fact, she said the Fair was held partly to celebrate herbeing six years old. This would happen on the seventeenth of October.Molly insisted that that was PLENTY close enough to the ninth ofSeptember to be celebrated then. This made Betsy feel like laughing out,but observing that the Putneys only looked at each other with thefaintest possible quirk in the corners of their serious mouths, sheunderstood that they were afraid that Molly's feelings might be hurt ifthey laughed out loud. So Betsy tried to curve her young lips to thesame kind and secret mirth.

  And, I can't tell you why, this effort not to hurt Molly's feelings madeher have a perfect spasm of love for Molly. She threw herself on her andgave her a great hug that tipped them both over on the couch on top ofShep, who stopped snoring with his great gurgling snort, wriggled outfrom under them, and stood with laughing eyes and wagging tail, lookingat them as they rolled and giggled among the pillows.

  "What dress are you going to wear to the Fair, Betsy?" asked Cousin Ann."And we must decide about Molly's, too."

  This stopped their rough-and-tumble fun in short order, and they appliedthemselves to the serious question of a toilet.

  When the great day arrived and the surrey drove away from the Wendells'gate, Betsy was in a fresh pink-and-white gingham which she had helpedCousin Ann make, and plump Molly looked like something good to eat in acrisp white little dimity, one of Betsy's old dresses, with a deep hemtaken in to make it short enough for the little butter-ball. Because itwas Betsy's birthday, she sat on the front seat with Mr. Wendell, andpart of the time, when there were not too many teams on the road, shedrove, herself. Mrs. Wendell and her sister filled the back seat solidlyfull from side to side and made one continuous soft lap on which Mollyhappily perched, her eyes shining, her round cheeks red with joyfulexcitement. Betsy looked back at her several times and thought how verynice Molly looked. She had, of course, little idea how she herselflooked, because the mirrors at Putney Farm were all small and high up,and anyhow they were so old and greenish that they made everybody lookvery queer-colored. You looked in them to see if your hair was smooth,and that was about all you could stand.

  So it was a great surprise to Betsy later in the morning, as she andMolly wandered hand in hand through the wonders of Industrial Hall, tocatch sight of Molly in a full-length mirror as clear as water. She wasalmost startled to see how faithfully reflected were the yellow of thelittle girl's curls, the clear pink and white of her face, and the blueof her soft eyes. An older girl was reflected there also, near Molly, adark-eyed, red-cheeked, sturdy little girl, standing very straight ontwo strong legs, holding her head high and free, her dark eyes lookingout brightly from her tanned face. For an instant Betsy gazed into thoseclear eyes and then ... why, gracious goodness! That was herself she waslooking at! How changed she was! How very, very different she lookedfrom the last time she had seen herself in a big mirror! She rememberedit well--out shopping with Aunt Frances in a department store, she hadcaught sight of a pale little girl, with a thin neck, and spindling legshalf-hidden in the folds of Aunt Frances's skirts. But she didn't lookeven like the sister of this browned, muscular, upstanding child whoheld Molly's hand so firmly.

  All this came into her mind and went out again in a moment, for Mollycaught sight of a big doll in the next aisle and they hurried over toinspect her clothing. The mirror was forgotten in the many excitingsights and sounds and smells of their first county fair.

  The two little girls were to wander about as they pleased until noon,when they were to meet the Wendells in the shadow of Industrial Hall andeat their picnic lunch together. The two parties arrived together fromdifferent directions, having seen very different sides of the Fair. Thechildren were full of the merry-go-rounds, the balloon-seller, thetoy-venders, and the pop-corn stands, while the Wendells exchanged viewson the shortness of a hog's legs, the dip in a cow's back, and thethickness of a sheep's wool. The Wendells, it seemed, had met somecousins they didn't expect to see, who, not knowing about Betsy andMolly, had hoped that they might ride home with the Wendells.

  "Don't you suppose," Mrs. Wendell asked Betsy, "that you and Molly couldgo home with the Vaughans? They're here in their big wagon. You couldsit on the floor with the Vaughan children."

  Betsy and Molly thought this would be great fun, and agreedenthusiastically.

  "All right then," said Mrs. Wendell. She called to a young man who stoodinside the building, near an open window: "Oh, Frank, Will Vaughan isgoing to be in your booth this afternoon, isn't he?"

  "Yes, ma'am," said the young man. "His turn is from two to four."

  "Well, you tell him, will you, that the two little girls who live atPutney Farm are going to go home with them. They can sit on the bottomof the wagon with the Vaughan young ones."

  "Yes, ma'am," said the young man, with a noticeable lack of interest inhow Betsy and Molly got home.

  "Now, Betsy," said Mrs. Wendell, "you go round to that booth at two andask Will Vaughan what time they're going to start and where their wagonis, and then you be sure not to keep them waiting a minute."

  "No, I won't," said Betsy. "I'll be sure to be there on time."

  She and Molly still had twenty cents to spend out of the forty they hadbrought with them, twenty-five earned by berry-picking and fifteen apresent from Uncle Henry. They now put their heads together to see howthey could make the best possible use of their four nickels. Cousin Annhad put no restrictions whatever on them, saying they could buy any sortof truck or rubbish they could find, except the pink lemonade. She saidshe had been told the venders washed their glasses in that, and theirhands, and for all she knew their faces. Betsy was for merry-go-rounds,but Molly yearned for a big red balloon; and while they were buying thata man came by with toy dogs, little brown dogs with curled-wire tails.He called out that they would bark when you pulled their tails, andseeing the little girls looking at him he pulled the tail of the one heheld. It gave forth a fine loud yelp, just like Shep when his tail gotstepped on. Betsy bought one, all done up neatly in a box tied with bluestring. She thought it a great bargain to get a dog who would bark forfive cents. (Later on, when they undid the string and opened the box,they found the dog had one leg broken off and wouldn't make the faintestsqueak when his tail was pulled; but that is the sort of thing you mustexpect to have happen to you at a county fair.)

  Now they had ten cents left and they decided to have a ride apiece onthe merry-go-round. But, glancing up at the clock-face in the tower overAgricultural Hall, Betsy noticed it was half-past two and she decided togo first to the booth where Will Vaughan was to be and find out whattime they would start for home. She found the booth with no difficulty,but William Vaughan was not in it. Nor was the young man she had seenbefore. There was a new one, a strange one, a careless, whistling youngman, with very bright socks, very yellow shoes, and very striped cuffs.He said, in answer to Betsy's inquiry: "Vaughan? Will Vaughan? Neverheard the name," and immediately went on whistling and looking up anddown the aisle over the heads of the little girls, who stood gazing upat him with very wide, startled eyes. An older man leaned over from thenext booth and said: "Will Vaughan? He from Hillsboro? Well, I heardsomebody say those Hillsboro Vaughans had word one of their cows wasawful sick, and they had to start right home that minute."

  Betsy came to herself out of her momentary daze and snatched Molly'shand. "Hurry! quick! We must find the Wendells before they get away!" Inher agitation (for she was really very much frightened) she forgot howeasily terrified little Molly was. Her alarm instantly sent the childinto a panic. "Oh, Betsy! Betsy! What will we do!" she gasped,
as Betsypulled her along the aisle and out of the door.

  "Oh, the Wendells can't be gone yet," said Betsy reassuringly, thoughshe was not at all sure she was telling the truth. She ran as fast asshe could drag Molly's fat legs, to the horse-shed where Mr. Wendell hadtied his horses and left the surrey. The horse-shed was empty, quiteempty.

  Betsy stopped short and stood still, her heart seeming to be up in herthroat so that she could hardly breathe. After all, she was only tenthat day, you must remember. Molly began to cry loudly, hiding herweeping face in Betsy's dress. "What will we do, Betsy! What can we DO!"she wailed.

  Betsy did not answer. She did not know what they WOULD do! They wereeight miles from Putney Farm, far too much for Molly to walk, and anyhowneither of them knew the way. They had only ten cents left, and nothingto eat. And the only people they knew in all that throng of strangershad gone back to Hillsboro.

  "What will we do, Betsy?" Molly kept on crying out, horrified by Betsy'ssilence and evident consternation.

  The other child's head swam. She tried again the formula which hadhelped her when Molly fell into the Wolf Pit, and asked herself,desperately, "What would Cousin Ann do if she were here!" But that didnot help her much now, because she could not possibly imagine whatCousin Ann would do under such appalling circumstances. Yes, one thingCousin Ann would be sure to do, of course; she would quiet Molly firstof all.

  At this thought Betsy sat down on the ground and took the panic-strickenlittle girl into her lap, wiping away the tears and saying, stoutly,"Now, Molly, stop crying this minute. I'll take care of you, of course.I'll get you home all right."

  "How'll you ever do it?" sobbed Molly.

  "Everybody's gone and left us. We can't walk!"

  "Never you mind how," said Betsy, trying to be facetious andmock-mysterious, though her own under lip was quivering a little."That's my surprise party for you. Just you wait. Now come on back tothat booth. Maybe Will Vaughan didn't go home with his folks."

  She had very little hope of this, and only went back there because itseemed to her a little less dauntingly strange than every other spot inthe howling wilderness about her; for all at once the Fair, which hadseemed so lively and cheerful and gay before, seemed now a horrible,frightening, noisy place, full of hurried strangers who came and wenttheir own ways, with not a glance out of their hard eyes for two littlegirls stranded far from home.

  The bright-colored young man was no better when they found him again. Hestopped his whistling only long enough to say, "Nope, no Will Vaughananywhere around these diggings yet."

  "We were going home with the Vaughans," murmured Betsy, in a low tone,hoping for some help from him.

  "Looks as though you'd better go home on the cars," advised the youngman casually. He smoothed his black hair back straighter than ever fromhis forehead and looked over their heads.

  "How much does it cost to go to Hillsboro on the cars?" asked Betsy witha sinking heart.

  "You'll have to ask somebody else about that," said the young man. "WhatI don't know about this Rube state! I never was in it before." He spokeas though he were very proud of the fact.

  Betsy turned and went over to the older man who had told them about theVaughans.

  Molly trotted at her heels, quite comforted, now that Betsy was talkingso competently to grown-ups. She did not hear what they said, nor tryto. Now that Betsy's voice sounded all right she had no more fears.Betsy would manage somehow. She heard Betsy's voice again talking to theother man, but she was busy looking at an exhibit of beautiful jellyglasses, and paid no attention. Then Betsy led her away again out ofdoors, where everybody was walking back and forth under the brightSeptember sky, blowing on horns, waving plumes of brillianttissue-paper, tickling each other with peacock feathers, and eatingpop-corn and candy out of paper bags.

  That reminded Molly that they had ten cents yet. "Oh, Betsy," sheproposed, "let's take a nickel of our money for some pop-corn."

  She was startled by Betsy's fierce sudden clutch at their little purseand by the quaver in her voice as she answered: "No, no, Molly. We'vegot to save every cent of that. I've found out it costs thirty cents forus both to go home to Hillsboro on the train. The last one goes at sixo'clock."

  "We haven't got but ten," said Molly.

  Betsy looked at her silently for a moment and then burst out, "I'll earnthe rest! I'll earn it somehow! I'll have to! There isn't any otherway!"

  "All right," said Molly quaintly, not seeing anything unusual in this."You can, if you want to. I'll wait for you here."

  "No, you won't!" cried Betsy, who had quite enough of trying to meetpeople in a crowd. "No, you won't! You just follow me every minute! Idon't want you out of my sight!"

  They began to move forward now, Betsy's eyes wildly roving from oneplace to another. How COULD a little girl earn money at a county fair!She was horribly afraid to go up and speak to a stranger, and yet howelse could she begin?

  "Here, Molly, you wait here," she said. "Don't you budge till I comeback."

  But alas! Molly had only a moment to wait that time, for the man who wasselling lemonade answered Betsy's shy question with a stare and a curt,"Lord, no! What could a young one like you do for me?"

  The little girls wandered on, Molly calm and expectant, confident inBetsy; Betsy with a very dry mouth and a very gone feeling. They werepassing by a big shed-like building now, where a large sign proclaimedthat the Woodford Ladies' Aid Society would serve a hot chicken dinnerfor thirty-five cents. Of course the sign was not accurate, for athalf-past three, almost four, the chicken dinner had long ago been alleaten and in place of the diners was a group of weary women movinglanguidly about or standing saggingly by a great table piled with dirtydishes. Betsy paused here, meditated a moment, and went in rapidly sothat her courage would not evaporate.

  The woman with gray hair looked down at her a little impatiently andsaid, "Dinner's all over."

  "I didn't come for dinner," said Betsy, swallowing hard. "I came to seeif you wouldn't hire me to wash your dishes. I'll do them fortwenty-five cents."

  The woman laughed, looked from little Betsy to the great pile of dishes,and said, turning away, "Mercy, child, if you washed from now tillmorning, you wouldn't make a hole in what we've got to do."

  Betsy heard her say to the other women, "Some young one wanting moremoney for the side-shows."

  Now, now was the moment to remember what Cousin Ann would have done. Shewould certainly not have shaken all over with hurt feelings nor haveallowed the tears to come stingingly to her eyes. So Betsy sternly madeherself stop doing these things. And Cousin Ann wouldn't have given wayto the dreadful sinking feeling of utter discouragement, but would havegone right on to the next place. So, although Betsy felt like nothing somuch as crooking her elbow over her face and crying as hard as she couldcry, she stiffened her back, took Molly's hand again, and stepped out,heart-sick within but very steady (although rather pale) without.

  She and Molly walked along in the crowd again, Molly laughing andpointing out the pranks and antics of the young people, who were feelinglivelier than ever as the afternoon wore on. Betsy looked at them grimlywith unseeing eyes. It was four o'clock. The last train for Hillsboroleft in two hours and she was no nearer having the price of the tickets.She stopped for a moment to get her breath; for, although they werewalking slowly, she kept feeling breathless and choked. It occurred toher that if ever a little girl had had a more horrible birthday shenever heard of one!

  "Oh, I wish I could, Dan!" said a young voice near her. "But honest!Momma'd just eat me up alive if I left the booth for a minute!"

  Betsy turned quickly. A very pretty girl with yellow hair and blue eyes(she looked as Molly might when she was grown up) was leaning over theedge of a little canvas-covered booth, the sign of which announced thathome-made doughnuts and soft drinks were for sale there. A young man,very flushed and gay, was pulling at the girl's blue gingham sleeve."Oh, come on, Annie. Just one turn! The floor's elegant. You can keep aneye on the booth from the hall!
Nobody's going to run away with the oldthing anyhow!''

  "Honest, I'd love to! But I got a great lot of dishes to wash, too! Youknow Momma!" She looked longingly toward the open-air dancing floor, outfrom which just then floated a burst of brazen music.

  "Oh, PLEASE!" said a small voice. "I'll do it for twenty cents."

  Betsy stood by the girl's elbow, all quivering earnestness.

  "Do what, kiddie?" asked the girl in a good-natured surprise.

  "Everything!" said Betsy, compendiously. "Everything! Wash the dishes,tend the booth; YOU can go dance! I'll do it for twenty cents."

  The eyes of the girl and the man met in high amusement. "My! Aren't weup and coming!" said the man. "You're most as big as a pint-cup, aren'tyou?" he said to Betsy.

  The little girl flushed--she detested being laughed at--but she lookedstraight into the laughing eyes. "I'm ten years old today," she said,"and I can wash dishes as well as anybody." She spoke with dignity.

  The young man burst out into a great laugh.

  "Great kid, what!" he said to the girl, and then, "Say, Annie, why not?Your mother won't be here for an hour. The kid can keep folks fromwalking off with the dope and ..."

  "I'll do the dishes, too," repeated Betsy, trying hard not to mind beinglaughed at, and keeping her eyes fixed steadily on the tickets toHillsboro.

  "Well, by gosh," said the young man, laughing. "Here's our chance,Annie, for fair! Come along!"

  The girl laughed, too, out of high spirits. "Wouldn't Momma be crazy!"she said hilariously. "But she'll never know. Here, you cute kid, here'smy apron." She took off her long apron and tied it around Betsy's neck."There's the soap, there's the table. You stack the dishes up on thatcounter."

  She was out of the little gate in the counter in a twinkling, just asMolly, in answer to a beckoning gesture from Betsy, came in. "Hello,there's another one!" said the gay young man, gayer and gayer. "Hello,button! What you going to do? I suppose when they try to crack the safeyou'll run at them and bark and drive them away!"

  Molly opened her sweet, blue eyes very wide, not understanding a singleword. The girl laughed, swooped back, gave Molly a kiss, anddisappeared, running side by side with the young man toward the dancehall.

  Betsy mounted on a soap box and began joyfully to wash the dishes. Shehad never thought that ever in her life would she simply LOVE to washdishes beyond anything else! But it was so. Her relief was so great thatshe could have kissed the coarse, thick plates and glasses as she washedthem.

  "It's all right, Molly; it's all right!" she quavered exultantly toMolly over her shoulder. But as Molly had not (from the moment Betsytook command) suspected that it was not all right, she only nodded andasked if she might sit up on a barrel where she could watch the crowd goby.

  "I guess you could. I don't know why NOT," said Betsy doubtfully. Shelifted her up and went back to her dishes. Never were dishes washedbetter!

  "Two doughnuts, please," said a man's voice behind her.

  Oh, mercy, there was somebody come to buy! Whatever should she do? Shecame forward intending to say that the owner of the booth was away andshe didn't know anything about ... but the man laid down a nickel, tooktwo doughnuts, and turned away. Betsy gasped and looked at the home-madesign stuck into the big pan of doughnuts. Sure enough, it read "2 for5." She put the nickel up on a shelf and went back to her dishwashing.Selling things wasn't so hard, she reflected.

  As her hunted feeling of desperation relaxed she began to find some funin her new situation, and when a woman with two little boys approachedshe came forward to wait on her, elated, important. "Two for five," shesaid in a businesslike tone. The woman put down a dime, took up fourdoughnuts, divided them between her sons, and departed.

  Never were dishes washed better!]

  "My!" said Molly, looking admiringly at Betsy's coolness over thistransaction. Betsy went back to her dishes, stepping high.

  "Oh, Betsy, see! The pig! The big ox!" cried Molly now, looking from hercoign of vantage down the wide, grass-grown lane between the booths.

  Betsy craned her head around over her shoulder, continuingconscientiously to wash and wipe the dishes. The prize stock was beingparaded around the Fair; the great prize ox, his shining horns tippedwith blue rosettes; the prize cows, with wreaths around their necks; theprize horses, four or five of them as glossy as satin, curving theirbright, strong necks and stepping as though on eggs, their manes andtails braided with bright ribbon; and then, "Oh, Betsy, LOOK at thepig!" screamed Molly again--the smaller animals, the sheep, the calves,the colts, and the pig, which waddled along with portly dignity.

  Betsy looked as well as she could over her shoulder ... and in years tocome she can shut her eyes and see again in every detail that rusticprocession under the golden, September light.

  But she looked anxiously at the clock. It was nearing five. Oh, supposethe girl forgot and danced too long!

  "Two bottles of ginger ale and half a dozen doughnuts," said a man witha woman and three children.

  Betsy looked feverishly among the bottles ranged on the counter,selected two marked ginger ale, and glared at their corrugated tinstoppers. How DID you get them open?

  "Here's your opener," said the man, "if that's what you're looking for.Here, you get the glasses and I'll open the bottles. We're in kind of ahurry. Got to catch a train."

  Well, they were not the only people who had to catch a train, Betsythought sadly. They drank in gulps and departed, cramming doughnuts intotheir mouths. Betsy wished ardently that the girl would come back. Shewas now almost sure that she had forgotten and would dance there tillnightfall. But there, there she came, running along, as light-footedafter an hour's dancing as when she had left the booth.

  "Here you are, kid," said the young man, producing a quarter. "We've hadthe time of our young lives, thanks to you."

  Betsy gave him back one of the nickels that remained to her, but herefused it.

  "No, keep the change," he said royally. "It was worth it."

  "Then I'll buy two doughnuts with my extra nickel," said Betsy.

  "No, you won't," said the girl. "You'll take all you want for nothing ...Momma'll never miss 'em. And what you sell here has got to be freshevery day. Here, hold out your hands, both of you."

  "Some people came and bought things," said Betsy, happening to rememberas she and Molly turned away. "The money is on that shelf."

  "Well, NOW!" said the girl, "if she didn't take hold and sell things!Say ... "--she ran after Betsy and gave her a hug--"you smart young one,I wish't I had a little sister just like you!"

  Molly and Betsy hurried along out of the gate into the main street ofthe town and down to the station. Molly was eating doughnuts as shewent. They were both quite hungry by this time, but Betsy could notthink of eating till she had those tickets in her hand.

  She pushed her quarter and a nickel into the ticket-seller's window andsaid "Hillsboro" in as confident a tone as she could; but when theprecious bits of paper were pushed out at her and she actually heldthem, her knees shook under her and she had to go and sit down on thebench.

  "My! Aren't these doughnuts good?" said Molly. "I never in my life hadENOUGH doughnuts before!"

  Betsy drew a long breath and began rather languidly to eat one herself;she felt, all of a sudden, very, very tired.

  She was tireder still when they got out of the train at HillsboroStation and started wearily up the road toward Putney Farm. Two mileslay before them, two miles which they had often walked before, but neverafter such a day as now lay back of them. Molly dragged her feet as shewalked and hung heavily on Betsy's hand. Betsy plodded along, her headhanging, her eyes all gritty with fatigue and sleepiness. A light buggyspun round the turn of the road behind them, the single horse trottingfast as though the driver were in a hurry, the wheels rattling smartlyon the hard road. The little girls drew out to one side and stoodwaiting till the road should be free again. When he saw them the driverpulled the horse back so quickly it stood almost straight up. He peeredat them
through the twilight and then with a loud shout sprang over theside of the buggy.

  It was Uncle Henry--oh, goody, it was Uncle Henry come to meet them!They wouldn't have to walk any further!

  But what was the matter with Uncle Henry? He ran up to them, exclaiming,"Are ye all right? Are ye all right?" He stooped over and felt of themdesperately as though he expected them to be broken somewhere. And Betsycould feel that his old hands were shaking, that he was trembling allover. When she said, "Why, yes, Uncle Henry, we're all right. We camehome on the cars," Uncle Henry leaned up against the fence as though hecouldn't stand up. He took off his hat and wiped his forehead and hesaid--it didn't seem as though it could be Uncle Henry talking, hesounded so excited--"Well, well--well, by gosh! My! Well, by thunder!Now! And so here ye are! And you're all right! WELL!"

  He couldn't seem to stop exclaiming, and you can't imagine anythingstranger than an Uncle Henry who couldn't stop exclaiming.

  After they all got into the buggy he quieted down a little and said,"Thunderation! But we've had a scare! When the Wendells come back withtheir cousins early this afternoon, they said you were coming with theVaughans. And then when you didn't come and DIDN'T come, we telephonedto the Vaughans, and they said they hadn't seen hide nor hair of ye, anddidn't even know you were TO the Fair at all! I tell you, your AuntAbigail and I had an awful turn! Ann and I hitched up quicker'n scat andshe put right out with Prince up toward Woodford and I took Jessie downthis way; thought maybe I'd get trace of ye somewhere here. Well, land!"He wiped his forehead again. "Wa'n't I glad to see you standin'there ... get along, Jess! I want to get the news to Abigail soon as Ican!"

  "Now tell me what in thunder DID happen to you!"

  Betsy began at the beginning and told straight through, interrupted atfirst by indignant comments from Uncle Henry, who was outraged by theWendells' loose wearing of their responsibility for the children. But asshe went on he quieted down to a closely attentive silence, interruptingonly to keep Jess at her top speed.

  Now that it was all safely over, Betsy thought her story quite aninteresting one, and she omitted no detail, although she wondered onceor twice if perhaps Uncle Henry were listening to her, he kept so still."And so I bought the tickets and we got home," she ended, adding, "Oh,Uncle Henry, you ought to have seen the prize pig! He was TOO funny!"

  They turned into the Putney yard now and saw Aunt Abigail's bulky formon the porch.

  "Got 'em, Abby! All right! No harm done!" shouted Uncle Henry.

  Aunt Abigail turned without a word and went back into the house. Whenthe little girls dragged their weary legs in they found her quietlysetting out some supper for them on the table, but she was wiping awaywith her apron the joyful tears which ran down her cheeks, such whitecheeks! It seemed so strange to see rosy Aunt Abigail with a face likepaper.

  "Well, I'm glad to see ye," she told them soberly. "Sit right down andhave some hot milk. I had some all ready."

  The telephone rang, she went into the next room, and they heard hersaying, in an unsteady voice: "All right, Ann. They're here. Your fatherjust brought them in. I haven't had time to hear about what happenedyet. But they're all right. You'd better come home."

  "That's your Cousin Ann telephoning from the Marshalls'."

  She herself went and sat down heavily, and when Uncle Henry came in afew minutes later she asked him in a rather weak voice for the ammoniabottle. He rushed for it, got her a fan and a drink of cold water, andhung over her anxiously till the color began to come back into her paleface. "I know just how you feel, Mother," he said sympathetically. "WhenI saw 'em standin' there by the roadside I felt as though somebody hadhit me a clip right in the pit of the stomach."

  The little girls ate their supper in a tired daze, not paying anyattention to what the grown-ups were saying, until rapid hoofs clickedon the stones outside and Cousin Ann came in quickly, her black eyessnapping.

  "Now, for mercy's sake, tell me what happened," she said, adding hotly,"and if I don't give that Maria Wendell a piece of my mind!"

  Uncle Henry broke in: "_I_'M going to tell what happened. I WANT to doit. You and Mother just listen, just sit right down and listen." Hisvoice was shaking with feeling, and as he went on and told of Betsy'safternoon, her fright, her confusion, her forming the plan of cominghome on the train and of earning the money for the tickets, he made, foronce, no Putney pretense of casual coolness. His old eyes flashed fireas he talked.

  Betsy, watching him, felt her heart swell and beat fast in incredulousjoy. Why, he was proud of her! She had done something to make the Putneycousins proud of her!

  When Uncle Henry came to the part where she went on asking foremployment after one and then another refusal, Cousin Ann reached outher long arms and quickly, almost roughly, gathered Betsy up on her lap,holding her close as she listened. Betsy had never before sat on CousinAnn's lap.

  And when Uncle Henry finished--he had not forgotten a single thing Betsyhad told him--and asked, "What do you think of THAT for a little girlten years old today?" Cousin Ann opened the flood-gates wide and burstout, "I think I never heard of a child's doing a smarter, grittierthing ... AND I DON'T CARE IF SHE DOES HEAR ME SAY SO!"

  It was a great, a momentous, an historic moment!

  Betsy, enthroned on those strong knees, wondered if any little girl hadever had such a beautiful birthday.