by Unknown
"Yes, she did," Grandma replied, "and I'll tell you how it turned out after dinner."
When we had finished the dishes, Grandma sat down with her sewing, and I pulled my chair up beside her.
It was in the summer, the summer I was nine years old. Ma was very busy taking care of the garden, canning the early vegetables, and cooking for the hired men Pa had working on the farm. My job was to make the beds, help with the dishes, sweep the floors and dust, feed the chickens, and bring the cows in from the pasture in the evening.
Actually those chores didn't take a lot of time if I got right at them, but I grumbled and fussed until my work seemed to use up most of the day. One morning Ma became impatient with my complaining.
' "You seem to forget that you're not the only one in the family who has work to do," she reminded me. "Pa and the boys aren't out in the fields playing ball, you know. Where would you be if no one in the family did any work for you?"
"I'd probably get along fine," I replied grumpily. "I could take care of myself if I didn't have all these other jobs to do."
Ma eyed me carefully for a moment. "All right. We'll try it and see. You finish up your work for today, and beginning tomorrow morning, you may do whatever you like. The rest of us will take over your chores."
"Do you really mean it, Ma?" I exclaimed. "I don't have to do anything except what I want to do?"
"I mean it. But remember, no one will do anything for you, either. That will be your responsibility."
I couldn't believe my good fortune, to actually be free to spend my time in any way I chose. I began to plan all the things I would do in the glorious days ahead.
That night at supper, Pa regarded me thoughtfully. "I hear you're going to be a lady of independence."
"What does that mean, Pa?" I asked.
"It means that you are going to take care of yourself and be your own boss."
I nodded happily. "That's right. Ma said I could do whatever I want—and no chores to finish first!"
Roy opened his mouth to say something, but a look from Pa stopped him.
The following morning I awakened to the sound of voices in the kitchen. For a moment I wondered why Ma had not called me. Then I remembered—this was my day! I could sleep half the morning if I wanted to! Suddenly I didn't want to. The whole exciting day stretched before me, and I needed to get an early start.
I jumped out of bed and reached for my clothes. They were not there! The dress and apron I had taken off the night before lay on the floor where I had dropped them, but there were no clean things on the chair where Ma always placed them. I started to call her to come and help me, then decided against it. I could certainly get my own clothes out.
I dressed as quickly as I could and ran to the kitchen. To my surprise, the table was cleared, and Ma was doing the dishes.
"Where is my breakfast?" I asked.
Ma didn't turn around. "That's your responsibility. Yoi go ahead and get what you want."
That slowed me down a little. I hadn't counted on having to fix my meals. I could see that the family had eaten pancakes and ham and eggs, but that was hard for me to fix, especially since the pancake batter seemed to be all gone. I finally managed to cut a piece of bread and put jam on it. The heavy milk pitcher was too much for me to handle. Milk spilled out on the table and floor.
"That's too bad," Ma said. "You know where the mop and bucket are, don't you?"
"Aren't you going to help me?"
"Why, no. You can take care of yourself."
When I had cleaned up the mess as best I could, I sat down at the table. A piece of bread and jam and no one to eat with seemed a poor way to start the day.
"I sure don't like to eat alone," I muttered.
"I'm sorry," Ma said. "But I thought since you had no chores today, you'd rather sleep in than get up when we did."
This reminder of the good times ahead brightened my outlook somewhat, so I finished quickly and hurried outside. The day was bright and beautiful, and I skipped happily across the yard. Immediately I was surrounded by chickens.
"Oh, bother! You'll just have to wait. Ma will feed you as soon as she has time."
It seemed to me that they watched reproachfully as I ran on toward the brook. It won't hurt 'em to wait a few minutes, I thought. This is my day.
For a while I was happy, picking flowers and wading in the brook. I made a daisy chain to hang around my neck, then lay on my stomach to see myself in the water.
After what seemed like a long time, I looked up at the sun and saw that it was still only the middle of the morning. Time didn't go so fast when there was no one to play with. I thought of Ma doing the dishes alone and making all the beds, and began to feel a little bit guilty.
But after all, I thought, she did say I could do what I wanted to. And that's what I was doing.
That morning went slower than any I had ever known. was determined not to miss the dinner bell, so when it seemed close to noon, I started back to the house. I was late, but another surprise awaited me.
The table was set for dinner, but at my place there was nothing but bread crumbs and a knife with jam on it!
Ma turned and smiled at me. "Did you have a nice morning?"
"Yes, ma'am. But don't I get to eat with you this noon?" "Oh my, yes," Ma replied. "Just clear away your breakfast things and set your place."
I did so, but my ideas about freedom were beginning to change.
"Shall I help put the food on?" I asked.
Ma looked surprised. "No, thank you. Just sit down, and we'll be ready to eat in a few minutes."
I sat down at the table and watched Ma dish up the food Something was just not right about this arrangement, and it made me feel uneasy. But I decided not to let the boys know how disappointing it was. When they and Pa came in for dinner, I attempted to look happier than I felt.
"Well," Pa boomed as he sat down at the table. "Do we have a visitor here today?"
"I'm not a visitor, Pa," I said. "I live here!"
"Of course. How could I forget that?"
"I'd like to forget it sometimes," Roy added. "I could get along real well without her for a while."
I looked at Ma quickly, afraid that she might decide to send me away so Roy could try it out, but she was giving him a disapproving look, and he bowed his head for prayer. Pa prayed, as usual, for the Lord to bless the food and the hands that prepared it. It occurred to me that I hadn't helped, so the blessing was not for me.
"What are you planning to do with your afternoon?" Pa asked as he began to eat.
"I don't know exactly ... but I'll have fun," I added quickly.
After dinner I wandered out to the porch and sat on the edge, swinging my feet. The rattle of dishes reminded me that mine would probably not be done unless I took care of it. When Ma finished and left the kitchen, I crept to the door to look. Sure enough, there was my cup and plate. The rest of the table was cleared.
That's not fair! I thought. Ma did the boys' dishes. She could have done mine too.
"And you could have helped her!" a little voice inside me said. "She did the boys' dishes, because they are out in the field working."
As quietly as I could, I rinsed off my dishes and brushed the crumbs from the table. I felt ashamed that I was the only one in the family who hadn't done anything all day. Even our dog, Pep, had taken the cows to the field that morning. Slowly I walked to my room to think things over. The unmade bed and the clothes on the floor looked worse than they had when I left them.
I picked up my clothes and made the bed, then sat down on the edge and looked around the room. Why had I thought that having no chores to do would be so wonderful? How had I planned to spend the time?
I picked up a mail-order catalog and flipped over a few pages, then put it down. Emily sat in the chair watching me, her sober, shoe-button, doll eyes inviting me to play. But I didn't feel like it. The clock in the parlor struck. Only one hour had passed since dinnertime!
I sighed and walked to
the window. Ma was in the garden picking vegetables for supper. Maybe she would let me help her get them ready.
"Ma, I'm tired of being a lady of independence. Could I shell the peas for you?"
"Are you sure you want to? What about your day off?"
"I think I've had enough of it. I can't think of anything I want to do."
"You've found out something important today!" Ma said. "It often happens that if you don't do anything, there's nothing you want to do. That's a pretty sad way to live." '
I agreed with Ma, and I didn't try that again.
Grandma looked at me, and her eyes twinkled. "Do you think you'd like to try it?"
I shook my head. "I don't think so. I guess it's nicer to have something to do."
How News Spread
The telephone rang in the old farm kitchen, and Grandma went to answer it. "Yes, Mr. Jenkins. I'll be in to get it this morning. Thank you."
Then Grandma turned to me. "Would you like to walk to the store with me? The material is here. We can begin a dress for you this afternoon."
Of course I was eager to go, and we started off down the shady lane to the road.
"Did you have a telephone when you were a little girl, Grandma?"
"Mercy, no. We didn't have electricity, or running water, or a lot of other things we enjoy now. But we didn't mind. I guess you don't miss things you've never had."
"I don't know how you got along without a telephone. How did you find out what everybody was doing? Or what if you needed someone to come and help you?"
Grandma laughed. "That was easy. If something important happened, a neighbor would ride over and tell us. Or if we needed help, Pa would send one of the boys to the nearest farm. News got around fast even without a telephone. In fact, it sometimes got around before it happened!"
"How could it do that? You can't tell news before it happens!"
"Some people can," Grandma replied. "And it causes trouble sometimes too."
"Did you do that, Grandma?"
"Yes, I'm afraid I did. I certainly didn't mean to do anything wrong, but I did like to talk. My tongue got me into difficulty more than once."
We had arrived at the store, so I waited until Grandma had paid for the material, and we were on the way home before I asked, "What did you tell that hadn't happened, Grandma? Did you make it up?"
"No," Grandma replied, "not really. I told what I had heard, but I didn't know the whole story. I'll tell you how it happened."
One of the things we looked forward to every spring was the visit of the peddler. For as long as I could remember, it was always the same one every year. When we would see his
wagon coming down the lane, we would run to meet him. If he came in the morning, he stayed for midday dinner. If he came in the afternoon, he stayed for supper. Sometimes he could even be persuaded to spend the night.
Oh, that peddler's cart was wonderful! I'll never forget the splendid things we had to look at when he let down the sides of his wagon. Ma and I wanted to see all the cloth and ribbons and thread he had to display. Of course, the boys and I looked longingly at all the toys and games that were there.
Pa was interested in the tools and in the big grindstone, a large wheel made of something like cement. It sat on a wooden standard, and when the peddler pumped it with his foot, it went around and sharpened metal things. Ma brought her knives and scissors to be sharpened; Pa brought the scythe and other tools.
The peddler was a wonderful man. He could mend pots and pans, or put new soles on our shoes, or even paint a new silver backing on a mirror for Ma.
The whole day the peddler was here became a holiday, especially mealtime when we learned the news of the county. He knew what was happening to people we very seldom saw. This particular evening as we sat at the table, Ma questioned him about some of her friends.
' "Did you stop at the Blakes'?" she asked.
"Yes, ma'am. I was there just last week. Everyone is well, I think. Old Uncle Tosh doesn't rightly remember things as well as he used to, though. He thought I was there to marry Harriet!"
"Harriet has been married for fifteen years!" Ma laughed "Where was Wesley when Uncle Tosh said that?"
"He'd gone to the barn. Harriet said that every time Wesley is out of sight, Uncle Tosh forgets all about him, and wants to know when Harriet is planning to get married!"
"I hope Uncle Tosh knew who Wesley was when he came back to the house," Pa remarked.
"Yes," the peddler nodded. "Most of the time he does, But sometimes he doesn't even remember Harriet. It must be hard to get old and have your past get away from you."
Ma and Pa nodded in agreement.
"How about Luke and Hannah Edwards?" Pa asked. "Are they getting on well?"
"Oh, yes. I saw them just three days ago. Ruth Edwards bought a cloth for a wedding dress."
I put my fork down and looked at the peddler with surprise. "Ruth Edwards! Sarah Jane didn't tell me that Caleb was getting married!"
Caleb was Sarah Jane's oldest brother, and she and I knew he was courting Ruth Edwards. We had talked it over often, and made so many plans about what we were going to do at the wedding, that I was surprised Sarah Jane had withheld that information from me.
"Maybe they just didn't want two nosy little girls to know all about it," Ma said. "Did it ever occur to you that they may not have told Sarah Jane?"
"But Caleb is her brother! You always know what happens to your own brother!" I turned to Reuben. "You'd tell me if you were getting married, wouldn't you?"
Reuben looked disgusted. "More likely, you'd tell me. When has anyone ever kept a secret from you?"
"That's enough," Pa interrupted. "Have you forgotten that we have a guest?"
"Sorry, Pa," Reuben said.
The subject was changed, but I was determined to get to the bottom of the story as soon as I could see Sarah Jane.
The next morning when she came to play, I hurried down to the creek where we could talk undisturbed.
"You didn't tell me that Caleb was getting married!" I accused her.
Sarah Jane's eyes grew round, and her mouth dropped open. "Married! My brother Caleb?"
"Yes, your brother. How many other Calebs do you know?"
Sarah Jane shook her head in bewilderment. "He's not getting married. I heard him tell Pa he wouldn't marry until he is twenty. And he's only nineteen now."
"Well then," I said smugly, "Ruth Edwards is going to marry someone else. The peddler told us that she bought the goods for her wedding dress!"
I was pleased to see that this was news to Sarah Jane. At least she hadn't kept anything from me.
"I don't think Ruth would keep company with Caleb if she was going to marry someone else," she said. "He just rode over to see her last evening. Are you sure that's what the peddler said?"
"Positive." I nodded. "I was sitting right there and hear it all. What should we do now?"
Neither of us thought that possibly this affair was none of our business. Or that we ought to keep out of it. Instead we began planning how to get the news out as soon as possible.
"I think we should have a party for them," I said.
"But we don't know what day it will be," Sarah Jan, protested.
"That doesn't matter. You can have a party to announce the wedding. Who shall we invite?"
We immediately set to work and invited everyone we saw to a party at Sarah Jane's house the next Saturday night Of course, we didn't think to say anything to either of our families. But word got back to Ma.
"What's this I hear about a party? Do Sarah Jane's folks know anything about it?"
"I don't think so. But I suppose she'll tell them."
"I certainly hope so. What is the party for?"
"It's a wedding party for Caleb and Ruth," I said. "It will be a surprise."
"Yes, it will," Pa agreed, "especially since they aren't getting married for another year, and haven't even set the date yet."
"Why is Ruth doing her sewing so soon?" I asked
in surprise. "The peddler said she bought the goods for her wedding dress."
"The peddler said a dress, not her dress. Ruth made a wedding dress for her cousin," Ma informed me crossly. "Oh, no!"
"You'll be saying more than 'Oh!' before you get this story straightened out, young lady," Pa scolded. "How could you girls pass along a story you didn't know was true?"
"We thought it was true," I said. "What shall we do now?"
"I suggest you tell Sarah Jane's folks about it first, then start uninviting all those people. Maybe this will teach both of you to check your news before you begin spreading it around. It's a good thing it wasn't a story that could have hurt someone." '
"We learned from that experience. By the time we heard the last of that mistake, we were heartily sorry that we had been so quick to tell our news."
Grandma laughed. "Just think how much more mischief we could have done if we'd had a telephone!"
Charlotte
Grandma," I wailed, "look what happened to Virginia!" I held up my doll so Grandma could see how her leg had come away from her body. "Can she be fixed?"
Grandma examined the doll carefully. "I should think so. I imagine your Uncle Roy can mend her. Ask him when he comes in."
I sat on the steps and waited for Uncle Roy to come from the barn. As soon as he appeared I rushed to meet him. "Grandma says you can fix Virginia, Uncle Roy. Will you
I try, please?"
Uncle Roy sat down and looked at the dangling leg. "I think a new piece of wire will take care of that. I'll fix it for you right after dinner."
He turned the doll over and laughed. "They sure don't make dolls like they used to. I remember a doll baby your grandma had."
"Was it Emily?" I asked.
"Mercy," Uncle Roy replied, "I don't know what she called it. I remember that I called it a mess—and so did Ma."
At the dinner table that night, I questioned Grandma. "What doll did you have that your mother and Uncle Roy thought was a mess?"
Grandma thought for a moment. "You must mean Charlotte. I'd almost forgotten about her. How did you remember, Roy?"