Brenda's Bargain: A Story for GirlsReed, Helen Leah
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Brenda's Bargain: A Story for Girls
Reed, Helen Leah
Boston (Mass.) -- Juvenile fiction; Schools -- Juvenile fiction; Young women -- Juvenile fiction
"Yes, her aunt brought her over very solemnly two or three days ago. She
said she thought it her duty not to trouble you again, as Maggie had
already been so much expense to you. She came here the day after you saw
her, and I explained our plans, and what we should expect from every
girl who entered. She promised that Maggie should stay the two years,
and showed a canny Scotch appreciation of the fact, that although Maggie
could earn little or nothing while here, at the end of the time she
would be worth much more than if she had spent the two years in a
shop."
"But how does Maggie feel?"
"Oh, I should judge that resignation is Maggie's chief state of mind. We
are going to try to help her acquire some more active qualities," said
Miss South.
"Come, come;" Brenda tried to draw Nora from the centre table on which
lay many attractive books and periodicals. "I'm very anxious to see
Maggie. Can't we see her now, Julia?"
"I believe she's in the kitchen, and as this is one of our most
attractive rooms, you might as well go there first."
"The kitchen, you remember, is practically Ruth's gift," said Julia, as
they stood on the threshold of a broad sunny room in the new ell, to
which they had descended a few steps from the main house. "She paid half
the expense of building the ell, and her purse paid for everything in
the kitchen."
"But how beautiful; why, it isn't at all like a kitchen!"
"All the same it is a kitchen, though we have tried to make it as
pleasant as any room in the house--in its way," concluded Julia smiling.
Advancing a few steps farther, Nora and Brenda continued their
exclamations of admiration. The walls, painted a soft yellow, reflected
the sunshine, without making a glare. The oiled hardwood floor had its
centre covered with a large square of a substance resembling oilcloth,
yet softer. A large space around the range was of brick tiles. The iron
sink stood on four iron legs with a clear, open space beneath it; there
were no wooden closets under it to harbor musty cloths and half-cleaned
kettles, and serve as a breeding place for all kinds of microbes. A
shelf beside the sink was so sloped that dishes placed there would
quickly drain off before drying. The wall above the sink was of blue and
white Dutch tiles, and between the sink and the range a zinc-covered
table offered a suitable resting-place for hot kettles and pans. Below
the clock shelf was another, with a row of books that closer inspection
showed to be cook-books. All these details could not, of course, be
taken in at once, although the pleasant impression was immediate.
"Plants in the window, and what a curious wire netting!" cried Brenda.
"Yes, it is neater than curtains, keeps out flies, and though it is so
made that outsiders cannot look into the room it does not obscure the
light. The shades at the top can be pulled down when we really need to
darken the room."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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