Mary Ware in TexasJohnston, Annie F. (Annie Fellows)
General
Mary Ware in Texas
Johnston, Annie F. (Annie Fellows)
Texas -- Juvenile fiction; Young women -- Juvenile fiction
They walked all around the house, exclaiming over each attractive
feature, as each window revealed a new one. The electric lights, the
convenient little bathroom, the open fire-place in the living-room, the
built-in china closet. Norman's only complaint was that the house was
nowhere near the river. That was a drawback in Mary's eyes also, for
ever since they had thought of a boat it had begun to take its place in
that mental picture in which those alluring girls were always fluttering
in and out.
"Of course we'll look farther," she said. "It wouldn't do to take the
first one we came to when there are so many to choose from. I'll just
run in next door and inquire the price, and tell them we'll make up our
minds later."
But when she had made her inquiries her decision followed immediately.
What might seem reasonable rent to the owner and to the people of that
neighborhood was entirely out of the reach of the Ware pocket-book. "You
won't find anything cheaper in this part of town," the woman assured
her, and after several more experiences of the same kind, Mary believed
her.
They passed all sorts of beautiful homes in their wanderings; stately
Colonial mansions, comfortable wide-spreading houses with broad
galleries and hospitable doors, picturesque bungalows in the mission
style, little white-winged cottages over-run with tangles of Maréchal
Niel roses, their fragrant buds swinging from the very eaves. The
farther they searched the more Mary longed to find a home among them,
and it was with a feeling of deep disappointment that she turned back to
the hotel for lunch.
Mrs. Ware had spent part of the morning telephoning to different real
estate offices recommended by Mr. Barnaby, and had a small list of
houses sifted down from those offered her.
"They tell me we are too late to get much of a choice," she reported.
"People have been pouring into the city for a month, and the freight
stations and ware-houses are piled up with household goods. It is this
way every fall, they say. No matter how many homes they build there are
always more families clamoring to occupy them than can be accommodated.
It would be easier for us to find one if we could afford to pay more,
but I had to cut out all the high-priced ones from the lists that they
gave me."
Mary took the slip of paper from her mother, saying, "So far the ones we
have seen have been too big or too expensive, or else far too small. I
wonder what will be the matter with these?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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