Children's stories; Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Young women -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction
“Of course I put up a little basket of cake and oranges and figs,
and while Lotty feasted, we talked. I found that their mother washed
dishes all day in a restaurant over by the Albany Station, leaving
the three children alone in the room they have on Berry Street.
Think of that poor thing going off before light these winter
mornings to stand over horrid dishes all day long, and those three
scraps of children alone till night! Sometimes they had a fire, and
when they hadn't they stayed in bed. Broken food and four dollars a
week was all the woman got, and on that they tried to live. Good
Mrs. Grover happened to be nursing a poor soul near Berry Street
last summer, and used to see the three little things trailing round
the streets with no one to look after them.
“Lotty is nine, though she looks about six, but is as old as most
girls of fourteen, and takes good care of 'the babies,' as she calls
the younger ones. Mrs. Grover went to see them, and, though a
hard-working creature, did all she could for them. This winter she
has plenty of time to sew, for Grandpapa needs little done for him
except at night and morning, and that kind woman spent her own
money, and got warm flannel and cotton and stuff, and made each
child a good suit. Lotty had come for hers, and when the bundle was
in her arms she hugged it close, and put up her little face to kiss
Grover so prettily, I felt that I wanted to do something too. So I
hunted up Min's old waterproof and rubbers, and a hood, and sent
Lotty home as happy as a queen, promising to go and see her. I did
go, and there was my work all ready for me. Oh, girls! such a bare,
cold room, without a spark of fire, and no food but a pan of bits of
pie and bread and meat, not fit for any one to eat, and in the bed,
with an old carpet for cover, lay the three children. Tot and Caddy
cuddled in the warmest place, while Lotty, with her little blue
hands, was trying to patch up some old stockings with bits of
cotton. I didn't know how to begin, but Lotty did, and I just took
her orders; for that wise little woman told me where to buy a bushel
of coal and some kindlings, and milk and meal, and all I wanted. I
worked like a beaver for an hour or two, and was so glad I'd been to
a cooking-class, for I could make a fire, with Lotty to do the
grubby part, and start a nice soup with the cold meat and potatoes,
and an onion or so. Soon the room was warm, and full of a nice
smell, and out of bed tumbled 'the babies,' to dance round the stove
and sniff at the soup, and drink milk like hungry kittens, till I
could get bread and butter ready.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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