MRS. WIGGS OF THE CABBAGE PATCH

BY

ALICE CALDWELL HEGAN

NEW YORK . . MCMII

Copyright, 1901, by

 THIS LITTLE STORY IS LOVINGLY DEDICATED TO MY MOTHER, WHO FOR YEARS HAS BEEN THE GOOD ANGEL OF "THE CABBAGE PATCH"

CONTENTS

MRS. WIGGS'S PHILOSOPHY

WAYS AND MEANS

THE "CHRISTMAS LADY"

THE ANNEXATION OF CUBY

A REMINISCENCE

A THEATER PARTY

"MR. BOB"

MRS. WIGGS AT HOME

HOW SPRING CAME TO THE CABBAGE PATCH

AUSTRALIA'S MISHAP

THE BENEFIT DANCE

MRS. WIGGS OF THE CABBAGE PATCH

CHAPTER I

MRS. WIGGS'S PHILOSOPHY

 "In the mud and scum of things Something always always sings!"

"MY, but it's nice an' cold this mornin'! The thermometer's donefell up to zero!"

Mrs. Wiggs made the statement as cheerfully as if her elbows werenot sticking out through the boy's coat that she wore, or her teethchattering in her head like a pair of castanets. But, then, Mrs. Wiggs was a philosopher, and the sum and substance of her philosophylay in keeping the dust off her rose-colored spectacles. When Mr. Wiggs traveled to eternity by the alcohol route, she buried hisfaults with him, and for want of better virtues to extol she alwayslaid stress on the fine hand he wrote. It was the same way whentheir little country home burned and she had to come to the city toseek work; her one comment was: "Thank God, it was the pig instid ofthe baby that was burned!"

So this bleak morning in December she pinned the bed-clothes aroundthe children and made them sit up close to the stove, while shepasted brown paper over the broken window-pane and made sprightlycomments on the change in the weather. 

The Wiggses lived in the Cabbage Patch. It was not a real cabbagepatch, but a queer neighborhood, where ramshackle cottages playedhop-scotch over the railroad tracks. There were no streets, so whena new house was built the owner faced it any way his fancy prompted. Mr. Bagby's grocery, it is true, conformed to convention, andpresented a solid front to the railroad track, but Miss Hazy'scottage shied off sidewise into the Wiggses' yard, as if it wereafraid of the big freight-trains that went thundering past so manytimes a day; and Mrs. Schultz's front room looked directly into theEichorns' kitchen. The latter was not a bad arrangement, however, for Mrs. Schultz had been confined to her bed for ten years, and hersole interest in life consisted in watching what took place in herneighbor's family. 

The Wiggses' house was the most imposing in the neighborhood. Thiswas probably due to the fact that it had two front doors and a tinroof. One door was nailed up, and the other opened outdoors, but youwould never guess it from the street. When the country house burned, one door had been saved. So Mrs. Wiggs and the boys brought it tothe new home and skilfully placed it at the front end of the sideporch. But the roof gave the house its chief distinction; it was theonly tin roof in the Cabbage Patch. Jim and Billy had made it of oldcans which they picked up on the commons. 

Jim was fifteen and head of the family; his shoulders were those ofa man, and were bent with work, but his body dwindled away to a pairof thin legs that seemed incapable of supporting the burden imposedupon them. In his anxious eyes was the look of a bread-winner whohad begun the struggle too soon. Life had been a tragedy to Jim: thetragedy that comes when a child's sensitive soul is forced to meetthe responsibilities of manhood, yet lacks the wisdom that onlyexperience can bring. 

Billy Wiggs was differently constituted; responsibilities restedupon him as lightly as the freckles on his nose. When occasion orhis mother demanded he worked to good purposes with a tenacity thatargued well for his future success, but for the most part he playedand fought and got into trouble with the aptitude characteristic ofthe average small boy. 

It was Mrs. Wiggs's boast that her three little girls had geographynames; first came Asia, then Australia. When the last baby arrived, Billy had stood looking down at the small bundle and askedanxiously: "Are you goin' to have it fer a boy or a girl, ma?" Mrs. Wiggs had answered: "A girl, Billy, an' her name's Europena!"

On this particular Sunday morning Mrs. Wiggs bustled about thekitchen in unusual haste. 

"I am goin' to make you all some nice Irish pertater soup ferdinner, " she said, as she came in from the parlor, where she kepther potatoes and onions. "The boys'll be in soon, an' we'll haveto hurry and git through 'fore the childern begin to come toSunday-school. "

For many years Sunday afternoon had been a trying time in theneighborhood, so Mrs. Wiggs had organized a Sunday-school class atwhich she presided. 

"If there don't come Chris an' Pete a'ready!" said Asia, from herpost by the stove; "I bet they've had their dinner, an' jes' comeearly to git some of ours!"

"Why, Asia!" exclaimed Mrs. Wiggs, "that ain't hospit'le, an' Chriswith one leg, too! 'T ain't no trouble at all. All I got to do is toput a little more water in the soup, an' me and Jim won't take butone piece of bread. "

When Jim and Billy came in they found their places at the tabletaken, so they sat on the floor and drank their soup out oftea-cups. 

"Gee!" said Billy, after the third help, "I've drinken so much thatwhen I swallers a piece er bread I can hear it splash!"

"Well, you boys git up now, an' go out and bring me in a couple ofplanks to put acrost the cheers fer the childern to set on. "

By two o 'clock the Sunday-school had begun; every seat in thekitchen, available and otherwise, was occupied. The boys sat in thewindows and on the table, and the girls squeezed together on theimprovised benches. Mrs. Wiggs stood before them with a dilapidatedhymn-book in her hand. 

"Now, you all must hush talking so we kin all sing a hymn; I'llread it over, then we'll all sing it together. 

 'When upon life's billers you are tempest tossed, When you are discouraged thinking all is lost, Count yer many blessin's, name 'em one by one, An' it will surprise you what the Lord hath done!'"

Clear and strong rose the childish voices in different keys andregardless of time, but with a genuine enthusiasm that was in itselfa blessing. When they had sung through the three stanzas Mrs. Wiggsbegan the lesson. 

"What did we study 'bout last Sunday?" she asked. 

No response, save a smothered giggle from two of the little girls. 

"Don't you all remember what the Lord give Moses up on themountain?"

A hand went up in the corner, and an eager voice cried:

"Yas'm, I know! Lord give Moses ten tallers, an' he duveled 'em. "

Before Mrs. Wiggs could enter into an argument concerning this newversion of sacred history, she was hit in the eye with a paper wad. It was aimed at Billy, but when he dodged she became the victim. This caused some delay, for she had to bathe the injured member, andduring the interval the Sunday-school became riotous. 

"Mith Wiggs, make Tommy thop thpittin' terbaccer juice in my hat!"

"Miss Wiggs, I know who hit you!"

"Teacher, kin I git a drink?"

It was not until Mrs. Wiggs, with a stocking tied over her eye, emerged from the bedroom and again took command that order wasrestored. 

"Where is Bethlehem?" she began, reading from an old lesson-paper. 

"You kin search me!" promptly answered Chris. 

She ignored his remark, and passed to the next, who said, halfdoubtfully:

"Ain't it in Alabama?"

"No, it's in the Holy Land, " she said. 

A sudden commotion arose in the back of the room. Billy, by a seriesof skilful manoeuvers, had succeeded in removing the chair that heldone of the planks, and a cascade of small, indignant girls weretobogganing sidewise down the incline. A fight was imminent, butbefore any further trouble occurred Mrs. Wiggs locked Billy in thebedroom, and became mistress of the situation. 

"What I think you childern need is a talk about fussin' an'fightin'. There ain't no use in me teachin' what they done athousand years ago, when you ain't got manners enough to listen atwhat I am sayin'. I recollect one time durin' the war, when thesoldiers was layin' 'round the camp, tryin' they best to keep fromfreezin' to death, a preacher come 'long to hold a service. An' whenhe got up to preach he sez, 'Friends, ' sez he, 'my tex' isChillblains. They ain't no use a-preachin' religion to men whosewhole thought is set on their feet. Now, you fellows git somesoft-soap an' pour it in yer shoes, an' jes' keep them shoes on tillyer feet gits well, an' the nex' time I come 'round yer minds'll bebetter prepared to receive the word of the Lord. ' Now, that's theway I feel 'bout this here Sunday-school. First an' fo'most, I amgoin' to learn you all manners. Jes' one thought I want you to takeaway, an' that is, it's sinful to fuss. Ma use' to say livin' waslike quiltin'--you orter keep the peace an' do 'way with thescraps. Now, what do I want you all to remember?"

"Don't fuss!" came the prompt answer. 

"That's right; now we'll sing 'Pull fer the shore. '"

When the windows had ceased to rattle from the vibrations of thelusty chorus, Mrs. Wiggs lifted her hands for silence. 

"O Lord!" she prayed earnestly, "help these here childern to be goodan' kind to each other, an' to their mas an' their pas. Make 'emthankful fer whatever they 'are got, even if it ain't but a little. Show us all how to live like you want us to live, an' praise Godfrom whom all blessin's flow. Amen. "

As the last youngster scampered out of the yard, Mrs. Wiggs turnedto the window where Jim was standing. He had taken no part in thesinging, and was silent and preoccupied. "Jim, " said his mother, trying to look into his face, "you never had on yer overcoat whenyou come in. You ain't gone an' sold it?"

"Yes, " said the boy, heavily; "but 't ain't 'nough fer the rent. Igot to figger it out some other way. "

Mrs. Wiggs put her arm about his shoulder, and together they lookedout across the dreary commons. 

"Don't you worry so, Jimmy, " said she. "Mebbe I kin git workto-morrow, or you'll git a raise, or somethin'; they'll be someway. "

Little she guessed what the way was to be. 

CHAPTER II

WAYS AND MEANS

 "Ah! well may the children weep before you! They are weary ere they run; They have never seen the sunshine, nor the glory Which is brighter than the Sun. "

THE cold wave that was ushered in that December morning was thebeginning of a long series of days that vied with each other as towhich could induce the mercury to drop the lowest. The descent ofthe temperature seemed to have a like effect on the barrel ofpotatoes and the load of coal in the Wiggses' parlor. 

Mrs. Wiggs's untiring efforts to find employment had met with nosuccess, and Jim's exertions were redoubled; day by day his scantyearnings became less sufficient to meet the demands of the family. 

On Christmas eve they sat over the stove, after the little ones hadgone to bed, and discussed the situation. The wind hurled itselfagainst the house in a very frenzy of rage, shaking the icicles fromthe window-ledge and hissing through the patched panes. The snowthat sifted in through the loose sash lay unmelted on the sill. Jimhad a piece of old carpet about him, and coughed with almost everybreath. Mrs. Wiggs's head was in her hands, and the tears thattrickled through her crooked fingers hissed as they fell on thestove. It was the first time Jim had ever seen her give up. 

"Seems like we'll have to ast fer help, Jim, " she said. "I can'tast fer credit at Mr. Bagby's; seems like I'd never have thecourage to pull agin a debt. What do you think? I guess--it lookslike mebbe we'll have to apply to the organization. "

Jim's eyes flashed. "Not yet, ma!" he said, firmly. "It 'ud be withus like it was with the Hornbys; they didn't have nothin' to eat, and they went to the organization ant the man asted 'em if they hada bed or a table, an' when they said yes, he said, 'Well, why don'tyou sell 'em?' No, ma! As long as we've got coal I'll git thevittles some way!" He had to pause, for a violent attack of coughingshook him from head to foot. "I think I can git a night job nextweek; one of the market-men comes in from the country ever' night togit a early start next morning an' he ast me if I'd sleep in hiswagon from three to six an' keep his vegetables from bein' stole. That 'ud gimme time to git home an' git breakfast, an' be down tothe fact'ry by seven. "

"But, Jimmy boy, " cried his mother, her voice quivering withanxiety, "you never could stan' it night an' day too! No, I'llwatch the wagon; I'll--"

A knock on the parlor door interrupted her. She hastily dried hereyes and smoothed her hair. Jim went to the door. 

"I've a Christmas basket for you!" cried a cheery voice. 

"Is this Christmas?" Jim asked dully. 

The girl in the doorway laughed. She was tall and slender, but Jimcould only see a pair of sparkling eyes between the brim of the hatand her high fur collar. It was nice to hear her laugh, though; itmade things seem warmer somehow. The colored man behind herdeposited a large basket on the doorstep. 

"It's from the church, " she explained; "a crowd of us are out inthe omnibus distributing baskets. "

"Well, how'd you ever happen to come here?" cried Mrs. Wiggs, whohad come to the door. 

"There is one for each of the mission-school families; just a littleChristmas greeting, you know. "

Mrs. Wiggs's spirits were rising every minute. "Well, that certainlyis kind an' thoughtful like, " she said. "Won't you--" she hesitated;the room she had just left was not in a condition to receive guests, but Mrs. Wiggs was a Kentuckian. "Come right in an' git warm, " shesaid cordially; "the stove's died down some, but you could gitthawed out. "

"No, thank you, I can't come in, " said the young lady, with a sideglance at Jim, who was leaning against the door. "Have you plenty ofcoal?" she asked, in an undertone. 

"Oh, yes'm, thank you, " said Mrs. Wiggs, smiling reassuringly. Hertone might have been less confident, but for Jim's warning glance. Every fiber of his sensitive nature shrank from asking help. 

The girl was puzzled; she noticed the stamp of poverty on everythingin sight except the bright face of the little woman before her. 

"Well, " she said doubtfully, "if you ever want--to come to see me, ask for Miss Lucy Olcott at Terrace Park. Good night, and a happyChristmas!"

She was gone, and the doorway looked very black and lonesome inconsequence. But there was the big basket to prove she was notmerely an apparition, and it took both Jim and his mother to carryit in. Sitting on the floor, they unpacked it. There werevegetables, oatmeal, fruit, and even tea and coffee. But thesurprise was at the very bottom! A big turkey, looking so comicalwith his legs stuck in his body that Jim laughed outright. 

"It's the first turkey that's been in this house fer many a day!"said Mrs. Wiggs, delightedly, as she pinched the fat fowl. "I 'spectEuropena'll be skeered of it, it's so big. My, but we'll have agood dinner to-morrow! I'll git Miss Hazy an' Chris to come overan' spend the day, and I'll carry a plate over to Mrs. Schultz, an'take a little o' this here tea to ole Mrs. Lawson. "

The cloud had turned inside out for Mrs. Wiggs, and only the silverlining was visible. Jim was doing a sum on the brown paper that cameover the basket, and presently he looked up and said slowly:

"Ma, I guess we can't have the turkey this year. I kin sell it fer adollar seventy-five, and that would buy us hog-meat fer a goodwhile. "

Mrs. Wiggs's face fell, and she twisted her apron-string in silence. She had pictured the joy of a real Christmas dinner, the first theyoungest children had ever known; she had already thought of half adozen neighbors to whom she wanted to send "a little snack. " But onelook at Jim's anxious face recalled their circumstances. 

"Of course we'll sell it, " she said brightly. "You have got thelongest head fer a boy! We'll sell it in the mornin', an' buysausage fer dinner, an' I'll cook some of these here nicevegetables an' put a orange an' some candy at each plate, an' thechildern'll never know nothin' 'bout it. Besides, " she added, "ifyou ain't never et turkey meat you don't know how good it is. "

But in spite of her philosophy, after Jim had gone to bed sheslipped over and took one more look at the turkey. 

"I think I wouldn't 'a' minded so much, " she said, wistfully, "efthey hadn't 'a' sent the cramberries, too!"

For ten days the basket of provisions and the extra money made byJim's night work and Mrs. Wiggs's washing supplied the demands ofthe family; but by the end of January the clouds had gatheredthicker than before. 

Mrs. Wiggs's heart was heavy, one night, as she tramped home throughthe snow after a hard day's work. The rent was due, the coal wasout, and only a few potatoes were left in the barrel. But these weremere shadow troubles, compared to Jim's illness; he had been toosick to go to the factory that morning, and she dared not think whatchanges the day may have brought. As she lifted the latch of herrickety door the sobbing of a child greeted her; it was littleEuropena, crying for food. For three days there had been no bread inthe house, and a scanty supply of potatoes and beans had been theironly nourishment. 

Mrs. Wiggs hastened to where Jim lay on a cot in the corner; hischeeks were flushed, and his thin, nervous fingers picked at the oldshawl that covered him. 

"Jim, " she said, kneeling beside him and pressing his hot hand toher cheek, "Jim, darling lemme go fer the doctor. You're worserthan you was this mornin', an'--an'--I'm so skeered!" Her voicebroke in a sob. 

Jim tried to put his arm around her, but something hurt him in hischest when he moved, so he patted her hand instead. 

"Never mind, ma, " he said, his breath coming short; "we ain't got nomoney to buy the medicine, even if the doctor did come. You go gitsome supper, now; an', ma, don't worry; I'm goin' to take keer ofyou all! Only--only, " he added, wearily, "I guess I can't sleep inthe wagon to-night. "

Slowly the hours passed until midnight. Mrs. Wiggs had pulled Jim'scot close to the stove, and applied vigorous measures to relievehim. Her efforts were unceasing, and one after another the homelycountry remedies were faithfully administered. At twelve o'clock hegrew restless. 

"Seems like I'm hot, then agin I'm cold, " he said, speaking withdifficulty. "Could you find a little somethin' more to put over me, ma?"

Mrs. Wiggs got up and went toward the bed. The three little girlslay huddled under one old quilt, their faces pale and sunken. Sheturned away abruptly, and looked toward the corner where Billy slepton a pallet. The blankets on his bed were insufficient even for him. She put her hands over her face, and for a moment dry sobs convulsedher. The hardest grief is often that which leaves no trace. When shewent back to the stove she had a smile ready for the sick boy. 

"Here's the very thing, " she said; "it's my dress skirt. I don'tneed it a mite, settin' up here so clost to the fire. See how niceit tucks in all 'round!"

For a while he lay silent, then he said: "Ma, are you 'wake?"

"Yes, Jim. "

"Well, I bin thinking it over. If I ain't better in the morning Iguess--" the words came reluctantly--"I guess you'd better gosee the Christmas lady. I wouldn't mind her knowin' so much. 'Twon't be fer long, nohow, cause I kin take keer of you allsoon--soon 's I kin git up. "

The talking brought on severe coughing, and he sank back exhausted. 

"Can't you go to sleep, honey?" asked his mother. 

"No, it's them ole wheels, " he said fretfully, "them wheels at thefact'ry; when I git to sleep they keep on wakin' me up. "

Mrs. Wiggs's hands were rough and knotted, but love taught them tobe gentle as she smoothed his hot head. 

"Want me to tell you 'bout the country, Jim?" she asked. 

Since he was a little boy he had loved to hear of their old home inthe valley. His dim recollection of it all formed his one conceptionof heaven. 

"Yes, ma; mebbe it will make me fergit the wheels, " he said. 

"Well, " she began, putting her head beside his on the pillow, so hecould not watch her face, "it was all jes' like a big front yardwithout no fences, an' the flowers didn't belong to folks like theydo over on the avenue, where you dassent pick a one; but they wasGod's, an' you was welcome to all you could pull. An' there wastrees, Jim, where you could climb up an' git big red apples, an'when the frost 'ud come they'd be persimmons that 'ud jes' melt inyer mouth. An' you could look 'way off 'crost the meaders, an' seethe trees a-wavin' in the sunshine, an' up over yer head the birds'ud be singin' like they was never goin' to stop. An' yer pa an' me'ud take you out at the harvestin' time, an' you 'ud play on thehay-stacks. I kin remember jes' how you looked, Jim--a fat littleboy, with red cheeks a-laughin' all the time. "

Mrs. Wiggs could tell no more, for the old memories were too muchfor her. Jim scarcely knew when she stopped; his eyes were halfclosed, and a sweet drowsiness was upon him. 

"It's nice an' warm in the sunshine, " he murmured; "the meaders an'trees--laughin' all the time! Birds singin', singin', singin'. "

Then Jim began to sing too, softly and monotonously, and the sorrowthat had not come with years left his tired face, and he fearlesslydrifted away into the Shadowy Valley where his lost childhood lay. 

CHAPTER III

THE "CHRISTMAS LADY"

 "The rosy glow of summer Is on thy dimpled cheek, While in thy heart the winter Is lying cold and bleak. 

 "But this shall change hereafter, When years have done their part, And on thy cheek the wintered And summer in thy heart. "

LATE the next afternoon a man and a girl were standing in the Olcottreception hall. The lamps had not been lighted, but the blaze fromthe back-log threw a cozy glow of comfort over the crimson curtainsand on the mass of bright-hued pillows in the window-seat. 

Robert Redding, standing with his hat in his hand, would have beengone long ago if the "Christmas Lady" had not worn her violet gown. He said it always took him half an hour to say good-by when she worea rose in her hair, and a full hour when she had on the violetdress. 

"By Jove, stand there a minute just as you are! The fire-lightshining through your hair makes you look like a saint. Little SaintLucinda!" he said teasingly, as he tried to catch her hand. She putit behind her for safe-keeping. 

"Not a saint at all?" he went on, in mock surprise; "then aniceberg--a nice, proper little iceberg. "

Lucy Olcott looked up at him for a moment in silence; he was verytall and straight, and his face retained much of its boyishness, inspite of the firm, square jaw. 

"Robert, " she said, suddenly grown serious, "I wish you would dosomething for me. "

"All right; what is it?" he asked. 

She timidly put her hand on his, and looked up at him earnestly. 

"It's about Dick Harris, " she said. "I wish you would not be withhim so much. "

Redding's face clouded. "You aren't afraid to trust me?" he asked. 

"Oh, no; it isn't that, " she said hurriedly; "but, Robert, it makespeople think such wrong things about you; I can't bear to have youmisjudged. "

Redding put his arm around her, and together they stood looking downinto the glowing embers. 

"Tell me about it, little girl; what have you heard?" he asked. 

She hesitated. "It wasn't true what they said. I knew it wasn'ttrue, but they had no right to say it. "

"Well, let's hear it, anyway. What was it?"

"Some people were here last night from New Orleans; they asked if Iknew you--said they knew you and Dick the year you spent there. "

"Well?" said Redding. 

Lucy evidently found it difficult to continue. "They said somehorrid things then, just because you were Dick's friend. "

"What were they, Lucy?"

"They told me that you were both as wild as could be; that yourreputation was no better than his; that--forgive me, Robert, foreven repeating it. It made me very angry, and I told them it was nottrue--not a word of it; that it was all Dick's fault; that he--"

"Lucy, " interrupted Redding, peremptorily, "wait until you hear me!I have never lied to you about anything, and I will not stoop to itnow. Four years ago, when those people knew me, I was just what theysaid. Dick Harris and I went to New Orleans straight from college. Neither of us had a home or people to care about us, so we went infor a good time. At the end of the year I was sick of it all, bracedup, and came here. Poor Dick, he kept on. "

At his first words the color had left Lucy's face, and she hadslipped to the opposite side of the fire, and stood watching himwith horrified eyes. 

"But you were never like Dick!" she protested. 

"Yes, " he continued passionately, "and but for God's help I shouldbe like him still. It was an awful pull, and Heaven only knows how Istruggled. I never quite saw the use of it all, until I met you sixmonths ago; then I realized that the past four years had been givenme in which to make a man of myself. "

As he finished speaking he saw, for the first time, that Lucy wascrying. He sprang forward, but she shrank away. "No, no, don't touchme! I'm so terribly disappointed, and hurt, and--stunned. "

"But you surely don't love me the less for having conquered thesethings in the past?"

"I don't know, I don't know, " she said, with a sob. "I honored andidealized you, Robert I can never think of you as being other thanyou are now. "

"But why should you?" he pleaded. "It was only one year out of mylife; too much, it's true, but I have atoned for it with all mymight. "

The intensity and earnestness of his voice were beginning toinfluence her. She was very young, with the stern, uncompromisingstandards of girlhood; life was black or white to her, and time hadnot yet filled in the canvas with the myriad grays that blend intoone another until all lines are effaced, and only the Master Artistknows the boundaries. 

She looked up through her tears. "I'll try to forgive you, " shesaid, tremulously; "but you must promise to give up your friendshipfor Dick Harris. "

Redding frowned and bit his lip. "That's not fair!" he said. "Youknow Dick's my chum; that he hasn't the least influence over me;that I am about the only one to stand by him. "

"I am not afraid of his influence, but I don't want people to seeyou together; it makes them say things. "

"But, Lucy, you wouldn't have me go back on him? Dick has a bigheart; he's trying to brace up--"

"Oh, nonsense!" cried Lucy, impatiently. The fire in her eyes haddried the tears. "He could straighten up if he wanted to. He likesto drink and gamble, so he does it, and you keep him in countenanceby your friendship. Are you hesitating between us?" she demandedangrily. 

Redding's face was clouded, and he spoke slowly: "You wouldn't askthis of me, Lucy, if you understood. Dick and I have been chumssince we were boys. He came to Kentucky three months ago, sick andmiserable. One day he came into the office and said, 'Bob, you 'vepulled through all right; do you think it's too late for me totry?' What would you have said?"

"What you did, probably, " answered Lucy; "but I would have profitedby the one experience, for he has hardly drawn a sober breathsince. " She looked out of the window across the snowy landscape, andin her face was something of the passionless purity of the sceneupon which her eyes rested. 

"You are mistaken, " he cried fiercely. "Because you have seen himseveral times in that condition, you have no right to draw such aconclusion. He is weak, nobody denies it; but what can you know ofthe struggle he makes, of his eagerness to do better, of the fightthat he is constantly making with himself?"

His words fell on deaf ears. 

"Then you choose Mr. Harris?"

"Lucy, this is madness; it is not like you in the least!"

The girl was cold with anger and excitement. "It is bad enough, " shesaid, "to know that my defense of you last night was worse thanuseless, but to have you persist in a friendship with a man who isbeneath you in every way is more than I can stand. " She slipped aring from her finger, and held it toward him. "I could never marry aman of whom I was ashamed. "

The shot went home; there was a white line about Redding's mouth ashe turned away. 

"I would not ask you to, " he said, with simple dignity, as he openedthe door. 

"Please, ma'am, is this Miss Olcott's?" asked a trembling voice onthe piazza. A shabby woman stood looking at them with wild eyes; hergray hair had escaped from the torn shawl that was pinned over herhead, and stray locks blew across her face. 

Lucy did not recognize her. "I will speak to you in a moment, " shesaid. 

An awkward pause followed, each waiting for the other to speak. 

"I will come when you send for me, " said Redding, without looking ather, and, turning abruptly, he strode down the steps and out intothe dusk. 

Lucy caught her breath and started forward, then she remembered thewoman. 

"What is it?" she asked listlessly. 

The woman stepped forward, and put out a hand to steady herselfagainst the door; her face was distorted, and her voice came ingasps. 

"You said I was to come if I needed you. It's Jimmy, ma'am--he'sdead!"

IT may be experience of suffering makes one especially tender to theheart-aches of others; at any rate, the article that Lucy Olcottwrote for the paper that night held the one touch of nature thatmakes the whole world kin. She had taken Aunt Chloe, the old coloredservant, and gone home with Mrs. Wiggs, relieving as far as possiblethe immediate need of the family. Then she had come home and writtentheir story, telling it simply, but with the passionate earnestnessof one who, for the first time, has come into contact with povertyand starvation. She told of the plucky struggle made by the boy, ofhis indomitable courage, of his final defeat, and she ended byasking help of any kind for the destitute family. 

A week later she sat at her desk bewildered. Her article, written onthe impulse of the moment, with the one thought of making peopleunderstand, had fulfilled its mission. For seven days she had donenothing but answer questions and notes, and receive contributionsfor the Wiggs family. Money had arrived from all over the State, andfrom every class of society. Eichenstine Bros. Sent fifty dollars, and six ragged newsboys came to present thirty cents. A lavendernote, with huge monogram and written in white ink, stated that someof the girls of the "Gay Burlesque Troupe" sent a few dimes to the"kid's" mother. The few dimes amounted to fifteen dollars. Mrs. VanLarkin's coachman had to wait with her note while Lucy answered thequestions of a lame old negro who had brought a quarter. 

"Maria done tole me what was writ in de papah 'bout dat pore Chile, "he was saying. "I sutenly do feel sorry fer he's maw. I ain't gotmuch, but I tole Maria I guess we could do without somethin' to giba quahter. "

So it continued. Old and young, rich and poor, paid theirsubstantial tribute of respect to Jimmy Wiggs. 

Lucy counted up the long line of figures. "Three hundred andsixty-five dollars!" she exclaimed; "and food, clothes, and coalenough to last them a year!"

It was like a direct answer to her prayer, and yet this poor littlesuppliant, instead of being duly exalted, put her head on the deskand wept bitterly. Now that the need of the Wiggs family had beenmet, another appeal, silent and potent, was troubling her heart. 

Redding had neither come nor written, and she was beginning torealize the seriousness of their misunderstanding. 

CHAPTER IV

THE ANNEXATION OF CUBY

 "They well deserve to have, That know the strongest and surest way to get. "

ALMOST a year rolled over the Cabbage Patch, and it was nearingChristmas again. The void left in Mrs. Wiggs's heart by Jim's deathcould never be filled, but time was beginning to soften her grief, and the necessity for steady employment kept her from brooding overher trouble. 

It was still needful to maintain the strictest economy, for half themoney which had been given them was in Miss Olcott's keeping as asafeguard against another rainy day. Mrs. Wiggs had got as muchwashing as she could do; Asia helped about the house, and Billy didodd jobs wherever he could find them. 

The direct road to fortune, however, according to Billy's ideas, could best be traveled in a kindling-wagon, and, while he was theproud possessor of a dilapidated wagon, sole relic of the late Mr. Wiggs, he had nothing to hitch to it. Scarcely a week passed that hedid not agitate the question, and, as Mrs. Wiggs often said, "WhenBilly Wiggs done set his head to a thing, he's as good as got it!"

So she was not surprised when he rushed breathlessly into thekitchen one evening, about supper-time, and exclaimed in excitedtones: "Ma, I 've got a horse! He was havin' a fit on the commonsan' they was goin' to shoot him, an' I ast the man to give him tome!"

"My land, Billy! What do you want with a fit-horse?" asked hismother. 

"'Cause I knowed you could cure him. The man said if I took him I'dhave to pay fer cartin' away his carcass, but I said, 'All right, I'll take him, anyway. ' Come on, ma, an' see him!" and Billy hurriedback to his new possession. 

Mrs. Wiggs pinned a shawl over her head and ran across the commons. A group of men stood around the writhing animal, but the late ownerhad departed. 

"He's 'most gone, " said one of the men, as she came up. "I toleBilly you'd beat him fer takin' that ole nag offen the man'shan's. "

"Well, I won't, " said Mrs. Wiggs, stoutly. "Billy Wiggs's got moresense than most men I know. That hoss's carcass is worth something I'spect he'd bring 'bout two dollars dead, an' mebbe more living. Anyway, I'm goin' to save him if there's any save to him!"

She stood with her arms on her hips, and critically surveyed herpatient. "I'll tell you what's the matter with him, " was her finaldiagnosis; "his lights is riz. Billy, I'm goin' home fer somemedicine; you set on his head so's he can't git up, an' ma'll beright back in a minute. "

The crowd which had collected to see the horse shot began todisperse, for it was supper-time, and there was nothing to see nowbut the poor suffering animal, with Billy Wiggs patiently sitting onits head. 

When Mrs. Wiggs returned she carried a bottle, and what appeared tobe a large marble. "This here is a calomel pill, " she explained. "Ijes' rolled the calomel in with some soft, light bread. Now, youprop his jaw open with a little stick, an' I'll shove it in, an'then hole his head back, while I pour down some water an' turkentineouten this bottle. "

It was with great difficulty that this was accomplished, for the oldhorse had evidently seen a vision of the happy hunting-ground, andwas loath to return to the sordid earth. His limbs were alreadystiffening in death, and the whites of his eyes only were visible. Mrs. Wiggs noted these discouraging symptoms, and saw that violentmeasures were necessary. 

"Gether some sticks an' build a fire quick as you kin. I 've got torun over home. Build it right up clost to him, Billy; we 've got togit him het up. "

She rushed into the kitchen, and, taking several cakes of tallowfrom the shelf, threw them into a tin bucket. Then she hesitated fora moment. The kettle of soup was steaming away on the stove readyfor supper. Mrs. Wiggs did not believe in sacrificing the presentneed to the future comfort. She threw in a liberal portion ofpepper, and, seizing the kettle in one hand and the bucket of tallowin the other, staggered back to the bonfire. 

"Now, Billy, " she commanded, "put this bucket of tallow down therein the hottest part of the fire. Look out; don't tip it--there!Now, you come here an' help me pour this soup into the bottle. I'mgoin' to git that ole hoss so het up he'll think he's havin' asunstroke! Seems sorter bad to keep on pestering him when he's sonear gone, but this here soup'll feel good when it once gits insidehim. "

When the kettle was empty, the soup was impartially distributed overMrs. Wiggs and the patient, but a goodly amount had "got inside, "and already the horse was losing his rigidity. 

Only once did Billy pause in his work, and that was to ask:

"Ma, what do you think I'd better name him?"

Giving names was one of Mrs. Wiggs's chief accomplishments, andusually required much thoughtful consideration; but in this case ifthere was to be a christening it must be at once. 

"I'd like a jography name, " suggested Billy, feeling that nothingwas too good to bestow upon his treasure. 

Mrs. Wiggs stood with the soup dripping from her hands, andearnestly contemplated the horse. Babies, pigs, goats, and puppieshad drawn largely on her supply of late, and geography namesespecially were scarce. Suddenly a thought struck her. 

"I'll tell you what, Billy! We'll call him Cuby! It's a town Iheared 'em talkin' 'bout at the grocery. "

By this time the tallow was melted, and Mrs. Wiggs carried it overby the horse, and put each of his hoofs into the hot liquid, whileBilly rubbed the legs with all the strength of his young arms. 

"That's right, " she said; "now you run home an' git that piece ofcarpet by my bed, an' we'll kiver him up. I am goin' to git themfence rails over yonder to keep the fire goin'. "

Through the long night they worked with their patient, and when thefirst glow of morning appeared in the east, a triumphant processionwended its way across the Cabbage Patch. First came an old woman, bearing sundry pails, kettles, and bottles; next came a very sleepylittle boy, leading a trembling old horse, with soup all over itshead, tallow on its feet, and a strip of rag-carpet tied about itsmiddle. 

And thus Cuba, like his geographical namesake, emerged from theviolent ordeal of reconstruction with a mangled constitution, internal dissension, a decided preponderance of foreign element, buta firm and abiding trust in the new power with which his fortuneshad been irrevocably cast. 

CHAPTER V

A REMINISCENCE

 "It is easy enough to be pleasant When life flows along like a song, But the man worth while is the one who will smile When everything goes dead wrong. "

WHEN Miss Hazy was awakened early that morning by a resonant neighat the head of her bed, she mistook it for the trump of doom. MissHazy's cottage, as has been said, was built on the bias in theWiggses' side yard, and the little lean-to, immediately behind MissHazy's bedroom, had been pressed into service as Cuba's temporaryabiding-place. 

After her first agonized fright, the old woman ventured to push thedoor open a crack and peep out. 

"Chris, " she said, in a tense whisper, to her sleeping nephew--"Chris, what on airth is this here hitched to our shutter?"

Chris, usually deaf to all calls less emphatic than cold water and abroomstick, raised a rumpled head from the bed-clothes. 

"Where at?" he asked. 

"Right here!" said Miss Hazy, still in a terrified whisper, andholding fast the door, as if the specter might attempt an entrance. Chris did not stop to adjust his wooden leg, but hopped over to thedoor, and cautiously put an eye to the opening. 

"Why, shucks, 't ain't nothin' but a hoss!" he said, in disgust, having nerved himself for nothing less than a rhinoceros, such as hehad seen in the circus. 

"How'd he git there?" demanded Miss Hazy. 

Chris was not prepared to say. 

All through breakfast Miss Hazy was in a flutter of excitement. Shehad once heard of a baby being left on a doorstep, but never ahorse. When the limit of her curiosity was about reached, she sawMrs. Wiggs coming across the yard carrying a bucket. She hastened tomeet her. 

"Mornin', " called Mrs. Wiggs, brightly, in spite of her night'svigil; "ain't we got a fine hoss?"

Miss Hazy put the ash-barrel between herself and the animal, andhazarded a timid inspection, while Mrs. Wiggs made explanations, andcalled attention to Cuba's fine points. 

"Can't you come in an' take a warm?" asked Miss Hazy, as sheconcluded. 

"Well, I b'lieve I will, " said Mrs. Wiggs. "I ain't been over ferquite a spell. The childern kin clean up, bein' it's Saturday. "From seven to nine in the morning were the favorite calling-hours inthe Cabbage Patch. 

Mrs. Wiggs chose the chair which had the least on it, and leanedback, smiling affably as she remarked: "We 're used to hosses; thishere's the second one we 've had. "

"My!" said Miss Hazy, "you muster been well to do!"

"Yes, " continued Mrs. Wiggs, "we was--up to the time of the fire. Did I ever tell you 'bout how Jim brought our other hoss to town?"

Miss Hazy had heard the story a number of times, but she knew theduties of a hostess. 

"It was this a-way, " went on Mrs. Wiggs, drawing her chair closer tothe fire, and preparing for a good, long talk. "You see, me an' thechildern was comin' on the steam-car train, but ther' wasn't no wayto git the hoss here, 'ceptin' fer somebody to ride him. Course Jimsaid he'd do it. Poor Jim, always ready to do the hard part!" Shepaused to wipe her eyes on her apron, and Miss Hazy wept insympathy. 

"Never min', Miss Wiggs; don't cry. Go on an' tell me what you donenext. "

"Well, " said Mrs. Wiggs, swallowing the lump in her throat, "Jimsaid he'd go. He never had been to the city, an' he was jes' alittle shaver, but I knowed I could trust him. "

"I don't see how you could stand to risk it!" exclaimed Miss Hazy. 

"Oh, I reckon whatever you got to do, you kin do. I didn't see noother way; so one mornin' I put a old fo-patch quilt over the hoss, tied a bucket of oats on behin' it an' fixed some vittles fer Jim, an' started 'em off. It was a forty-mile ride to the city, so Icalkerlated to start Jim so's he'd git to Dr. White's 'boutnightfall. "

"Dr. White was your old doctor, wasn't he?" prompted Miss Hazy. 

"Yes'm. He used to tend Mr. Wiggs before we moved over into BullittCounty. You know Mr. Wiggs was a widow man when I married him. Hehad head trouble. Looked like all his inflictions gethered togetherin that head of hisn. He uster go into reg'lar transoms!"

Miss Hazy was awe-struck, but more dreadful revelations were tofollow. 

"I guess you knew I killed him, " continued Mrs. Wiggs, calmly. "Thedoctor an' ever'body said so. He was jes' gitten over typhoid, an' Igive him pork an' beans. He was a wonderful man! Kept his sensesplumb to the end. I remember his very las' words. I was settin' byhim, waitin' fer the doctor to git there, an' I kep' saying 'Oh, Mr. Wiggs! You don't think you are dying do you?' an' he answered upjes' as natural an' fretful-like, 'Good lan', Nancy! How do I know?I ain't never died before. ' An' them was the very las' words he everspoke. "

"Was he a church member, Miss Wiggs?" inquired Miss Hazy. 

"Well, no, not exactly, " admitted Mrs. Wiggs, reluctantly. "But hewas what you might say a well-wisher. But, as I was tellin' you, Dr. White was a old friend, an' I pinned a note on Jim's coat tellin'who he was an' where he was going an' knowed the doctor would have aeye on him when he got as fur as Smithville. As fer the rest of thetrip, I wasn't so certain. The only person I knowed in the city wasPete Jenkins, an' if there was one man in the world I didn't haveno use fer, it was Pete. But when I don't like folks I try to dosomethin' nice fer 'em. Seems like that's the only way I kin weedout my meanness. So I jes' sez to Jim, 'You keep on astin' till yougit to No. 6 Injun House, an' then you ast fer Pete Jenkins. Youtell him, ' sez I, 'you are Hiram Wiggs's boy, an' as long as he doneso much harm to yer pa, mebbe he'd be glad to do a good turn byyou, an' keep you an' the hoss fer the night, till yer ma comes feryou. ' Well, Jim started off, lookin' mighty little settin' up onthat big hoss, an' I waved my apron long as I could; then I hidbehin' a tree to keep him from seein' me cry. He rode all that day, an' 'bout sundown he come to Dr. White's. Pore little feller, he wasso tired an' stiff he couldn't hardly walk, but he tied the hoss tothe post an' went 'round to the back door an' knocked real easy. Mrs. White come to the door an' sez, real cross, 'No, doctor ain'there, ' an' slammed it shut agin. I ain't meanin' to blame her; mebbeher bread was in the oven, or her baby crying or somethin', butseems to me I couldn't have treated a dog that a-way!

"Pore Jim, he dragged out to the road agin, an' set there beside thehoss, not knowin' what to do nex'. Night was a-comin' on, he hadn'thad no supper, an' he was dead beat. By an' by he went to sleep, an'didn't know nothin' till somebody shuck his shoulder an' sez, 'Gitup from here! What you doin' sleepin' here in the road?' Then hewent stumblin' 'long, with somebody holdin' his arm, an' he was tookinto a big, bright room, an' the doctor was lookin' at him an'astin' him questions. An' Jim said he never did know what heanswered, but it must 'a' been right, fer the doctor grabbed holt ofhis hand, an' sez: 'Bless my soul! It's little Jimmy Wiggs, all theway from Curryville!'

"Then they give him his supper, an' Mrs. White sez: 'Where'll hesleep at, Doctor? There ain't no spare bed. ' Then Jim sez the doctorfrowned like ever'thin', an' sez: 'Sleep? Why, he'll sleep in thebed with my boys, an' they orter be proud to have sech a pluckybedfeller!'

"Jim never did fergit them words; they meant a good deal more to himthan his supper. 

"Early the nex' mornin' he started out agin, the doctor pointin' himon the way. He didn't git into the city till 'long 'bout fouro'clock, an' he sez he never was so mixed in all his life. All mychildern was green about town; it made ever' one of 'em sick whenthey first rode on the street-cars, an' Europena was skeered todeath of the newsboys, 'cause she thought they called 'Babies, ''stid of 'Papers. ' Jim kep' right on the main road, like he was toleto, but things kep' a-happenin' 'round him so fast, he said hecouldn't do no more 'n jes' keep out the way. All of a suddint aice-wagon come rattlin' up behin' him. It was runnin' off, an' 'forehe knowed it a man hit it in the head an' veered it 'round towardshim; Jim said his hoss turned a clean somerset, an' he was th'owedup in the air, an'--"

"Ma!" called a shrill voice from the Wiggses' porch, "Australia'sin the rain-barrel!"

Mrs. Wiggs looked exasperated. "I never was havin' a good time in mylife that one of my childern didn't git in that rain-barrel!"

"Well, go on an' finish, " said Miss Hazy, to whom the story had lostnothing by repetition. 

"Ther' ain't much more, " said Mrs. Wiggs, picking up her bucket. "Our hoss had two legs an' his neck broke, but Jim never had ascratch. A policeman took him to No. 6 Injun House, an' Pete Jenkinsjes' treated him like he'd been his own son. I was done cured thenan' there fer my feelin' aginst Pete. "

"Ma!" again came the warning cry across the yard. 

"All right, I'm comin'! Good-by, Miss Hazy; you have a eye to Cubytill we git our shed ready. He ain't as sperited as he looks. "

And, with a cordial hand-shake, Mrs. Wiggs went cheerfully away toadminister chastisement to her erring offspring. 

CHAPTER VI

A THEATER PARTY

 "The play, the play's the thing!"

BILLY'S foreign policy proved most satisfactory, and after theannexation of Cuba many additional dimes found their way into thetin box on top of the wardrobe. But it took them all, besides Mrs. Wiggs's earnings, to keep the family from the awful calamity of"pulling agin a debt. "

One cold December day Billy came in and found his mother leaningwearily on the table. Her face brightened as he entered, but hecaught the tired look in her eyes. 

"What's the matter?" he asked. 

"Ain't nothin' the matter, Billy, " she said, trying to speakcheerfully; "I'm jes' wore out, that's all. It'll be with me likeit was with Uncle Ned's ole ox, I reckon; he kep' a-goin' an'a-goin' till he died a-standin' up, an' even then they had to pushhim over. "

She walked to the window, and stood gazing absently across thecommons. "Do you know, Billy, " she said suddenly, "I 've got thecraziest notion in my head. I'd jes' give anythin' to see the showat the Opery House this week. "

If she had expressed a wish for a diamond necklace, Billy could nothave been more amazed, and his countenance expressed his state ofmind. Mrs. Wiggs hastened to explain:

"Course, I ain't really thinkin' 'bout goin', but them show-billsstarted me to studyin' about it, an' I got to wishin' me an' youcould go. "

"I don't 'spect it's much when you git inside, " said Billy, tryingthe effects of negative consolation. 

"Yes, 't is, Billy Wiggs, " answered his mother, impressively. "Youain't never been inside a theayter, an' I have. I was there twict, an' it was grand! You orter see the lights an' fixin's, an' all thefine ladies an' their beaus. First time I went they was a man inskin-tights a-walkin' on a rope h'isted 'way up over ever'body'shead. "

"What's skin-tights?" asked Billy, thrilled in spite of himself. 

"It's spangles 'round yer waist, an' shoes without no heels to 'em. You see, the man couldn't wear many clothes, 'cause it would makehim too heavy to stay up there in the air. The band plays all thetime, an' folks sing an' speechify, an' ever'body laughs an' has agood time. It's jes' grand, I tell you!"

Billy's brows were puckered, and he sat unusually quiet for a while, looking at his mother. Finally he said: "You might take mysnow-money from las' week. "

Mrs. Wiggs was indignant. "Why, Billy Wiggs!" she exclaimed, "do youthink I'd take an' go to a show, when Asia an' Australia ain't gota good shoe to their backs?"

Billy said no more about the theater, but that afternoon, when hewas out with the kindling, he pondered the matter deeply. It wasquite cold, and sometimes he had to put the reins between his kneesand shove his hands deep into his pockets to get the stiffness outof them. It really seemed as if everybody had just laid in a supplyof kindling, and the shadowy little plan he had been forming wasgrowing more shadowy all the time. 

"I 'spect the tickets cost a heap, " he thought ruefully, as he drewhimself up into a regular pretzel of a boy; "but, then, she neverdoes have no fun, an' never gits a thing fer herself. " And becauseBilly knew of his mother's many sacrifices, and because he found itvery hard to take Jim's place, a lump lodged in his throat, and gavehim so much trouble that he forgot for a while how cold he was. 

About this time he came within sight of the Opera House, andtantalizing posters appeared of the "Greatest Extravaganza of theCentury. " He pulled Cuba into a walk, and sat there absorbing thewonders depicted; among the marvels were crowds of children dressedas butterflies, beautiful ladies marching in line, a man balancing abarrel on his feet, and--yes, there was the man in "skin-tights"walking on the rope!

A keen puff of wind brought Billy back to his senses, and as hislonging eyes turned from the gorgeous show-bills they encounteredthe amused look of a gentleman who had just come out from the OperaHouse. He was so tall and fine-looking that Billy thought he mustown the show. 

"Some kindlin', sir?"

The gentleman shook his head. The posters still danced beforeBilly's eyes; if his mother could only see the show! The last chanceseemed slipping away. Suddenly a bold idea presented itself. He gotout of the wagon, and came up on the step. 

"Couldn't you use a whole load, if I was to take it out intickets?"

The man looked puzzled. "Take it out in tickets?" he repeated. 

"Yes, sir, " said Billy, "theayter tickets. Don't you own the show?"

The gentleman laughed. "Well, hardly, " he said. "What do you wantwith more than one ticket?"

There was a certain sympathy in his voice, in spite of the fact thathe was still laughing, and before Billy knew it he had told him allabout it. 

"How many tickets could yer gimme fer the load?" he asked, inconclusion. 

The gentleman made a hurried calculation. "You say you have threesisters?" he asked. 

"Yep, " said Billy. 

"Well, I should say that load was worth about five tickets. "

"Gee whiz!" cried the boy; "that 'ud take us all!"

He followed the gentleman back to the ticket-office, and eagerlywatched the man behind the little window count out five tickets andput them in a pink envelope. 

"One for you, one for your mother, and three for the kids, " said hisfriend, as Billy buttoned the treasure in the inside pocket of hisragged coat. 

He was so excited that he almost forgot his part of the bargain, butas the gentleman was turning away he remembered. 

"Say, mister, where must I take the kindlin' to?"

"Oh, that's all right; you can sell it to-morrow, " answered theother. 

Billy's face fell instantly. "If you don't take the kindlin', I'llhave to give you back the tickets. Ma don't 'low us to take nothin'that way. "

"But I don't need the kindling; haven't any place to put it. "

"Ain't you got no home?" asked Billy, incredulously. 

"No, " answered the man, shortly. 

The idea of any one, in any walk of life, not having use forkindling was a new one to Billy. But he had no time to dwell on it, for this new complication demanded all his attention. 

"Ain't there nobody you could give it to?" he asked. 

The gentleman was growing impatient. "No, no; go along; that's allright. "

But Billy knew it would not be all right when he got home, so hemade one more effort. "How'd you like to send it out to Miss Hazy?"he inquired. 

"Well, Miss Hazy, not having the pleasure of my acquaintance, mightobject to the delicate attention. Who is she?"

"She's Chris's aunt; they ain't had no fire fer two days. "

"Oh!" said the man, heartily, "take it to Miss Hazy, by all means. Tell her it's from Mr. Bob, who is worse off than she is, for hehasn't even a home. "

An hour later there was wild excitement under the only tin roof inthe Cabbage Patch. Such scrubbing and brushing as was taking place!

"It's jes' like a peetrified air-castle, " said Mrs. Wiggs, as shepressed out Asia's best dress; "here I been thinkin' 'bout it, an'wantin' to go, an' here I am actually gittin' ready to go! Comehere, child, and let me iron out yer plaits while the iron's goodan' hot. "

This painful operation was performed only on state occasions; eachlittle Wiggs laid her head on the ironing-board, a willing sacrificeon the altar of vanity, while Mrs. Wiggs carefully ironed out fiveplaits on each head. Europena was the only one who objected to beinga burnt-offering, but when she saw the frizzled locks of the others, her pride conquered her fear, and, holding tight to Billy's hand, she bent her chubby head to the trying ordeal. 

"Now, Billy, you run over to Mrs. Eichorn's an' ast her to loan meher black crepe veil. Mrs. Krasmier borrowed it yesterday to wear toher pa's funeral, but I guess she's sent it back by this time. An', Billy--Billy, wait a minute; you be sure to tell 'em we are goin'to the show. " Mrs. Wiggs vigorously brushed her hair with theclothes-brush as she spoke. Australia had thrown the hair-brush downthe cistern the summer before. 

"Asia, you go git the alpaca from behind the chest, an' sorter shakeit out on the bed. "

"Who's goin' to wear it, ma?" The question came in anxious tones, for the blue alpaca had been sent them in a bundle of old clothes, and though it failed to fit either of the girls, the wearing of itwas a much coveted privilege. 

"Well, now, I don't know, " said Mrs. Wiggs, critically surveying thechildren; "it won't button good on you, and swags in the back onAustralia. "

"Lemme wear it, ma!"

"No, lemme!" came in excited tones. 

Mrs. Wiggs had seen trouble before over the blue alpaca; she knewwhat anguish her decision must bring to one or the other. 

"It really looks best on Asia, " she thought; "but if I let her wearit Austry'll have a cryin' spell an' git to holdin' her breath, an'that'll take up so much time. " So she added aloud: "I'll tell youwhat we'll do. Asia, you kin wear the skirt, an' Austry kin wearthe waist. "

But when she had pinned the skirt over one little girl's red calicodress, and buttoned the blue waist over the clean apron of theother, she looked at them dubiously. "They do look kinder mixed, "she admitted to herself, "but I reckon it don't matter, so long asthey 're both happy. "

Just here Billy came in, with the veil in one hand and a bunch offaded carnations in the other. 

"Look, ma!" he exclaimed, holding up his trophy, "I swapped 'em withPete fer a top an' a agate. He got 'em outen a ash-barrel over onthe avenue. "

"Well, now, ain't that nice?" said Mrs. Wiggs; "I'll jes' clip thestems an' put 'em in a bottle of water, an' they'll pick up rightsmart by the time we go. I wisht you had something to fix up in, Billy, " she added; "you look as seedy as a raspberry. "

Billy did look rather shabby; his elbows were out, and two of theholes in his pants were patched and two were not. Mrs. Wiggs wasrummaging in the table drawer. 

"I wisht I could find somethin' of yer pa's that would do. Here'shis white gloves he wore that time he was pallbearer to ole Mr. Bender. Seems to me they do wear white gloves to the theayter, but Idisremember. "

"Naw! I ain't a-goin' to wear no gloves, " said Billy, firmly. 

Mrs. Wiggs continued her search. "Here's yer grandpa's watch-fob, but I'm skeered fer you to wear it, you might lose it. It's afamily remnant--been handed down two generations. What about thishere red comforter? It would sorter spruce you up, an' keep youwarm, besides; you know you 've had a cold fer a week, an' yer pipesis all stopped up. " So it was decided, and Billy wore the comforter. 

At seven o 'clock they were ready, and, the news having spreadabroad that the Wiggses were going to a show, many of the neighborscame in to see how they looked and to hear how it happened. 

"Some of you all shake down the stove an' pull the door to fer me. Iam jes' that skeered of hurtin' Mrs. Eichorn's veil I'm 'fraid toturn my head, " Mrs. Wiggs said nervously, as she stepped off theporch. 

The little procession had left the railroad tracks far behind, whenMrs. Wiggs stopped suddenly. 

"Fer the land's sakes alive! Do you know what we 've gone an' done?We have left the theayter tickets to home!"

At this Australia began to cry, and a gloom settled upon the party. 

"Billy, you run back, fast as yer legs kin carry you, an' look inthat tin can behind the clock, an' we'll wait right here fer you. "Mrs. Wiggs wrapped Europena in her shawl, and tried to keep up thespirits of the party as they huddled on the curbing to await Billy'sreturn. 

"Look how pretty it looks, all the lights a-streamin' out thewinders on the snow. Looks like a chromo ma used to have. "

But the young Wiggses were in no frame of mind to appreciate thepicturesqueness of the scene. 

It was very cold, and even the prospect of the show was dimmed bythe present discomfort. By and by Australia's sobs began anew. 

"What's the matter, honey? Don't cry; Billy'll be back in a littlewhile, an' then we'll git in where it's good an' warm. "

"I want my supper!" wailed Australia. 

Then it dawned on Mrs. Wiggs for the first time that, in theexcitement of preparation, supper had been entirely overlooked. 

"Well, if that don't beat all!" said she. "I had jes' 'bout as muchidea of supper as a goat has of kid gloves!"

But when Billy came flying back with the tickets, and the party hadstarted once more on the long walk to the Opera House, the enticingposters began to appear, and supper and the cold were forgotten. 

CHAPTER VII

"MR. BOB"

 "If his heart at high floods Swamped his brain now and then, 'T was but richer for that When the tide ebbed again. "

A LARGE audience assembled that night to witness "The GreatestExtravaganza of the Century. " The Opera House was a blaze of lightand color. 

From the recesses of one of the boxes, Redding made a careful surveyof the faces beneath him. First nights usually found him there, withthe same restless, eager look in his eyes. Tonight he evidentlyfailed to find what he sought, and was turning listlessly away whenhe stopped suddenly, bent forward, then smiled broadly. He hadcaught sight of Billy's red comforter. 

The boy's hair was plastered close to his head, and his face wastransformed by soap and happiness. Redding glanced quizzically atthe rest of the party--at the mother's radiant countenance beamingfrom the dusk of her crepe veil, at the three little girls in theircomposite costumes, at the carnations pinned on each bosom. Then hedeliberately turned his back on "The Greatest Extravaganza of theCentury, " and centered his attention on the parquet group. 

It was a singularly enthusiastic theater party, oblivious ofsurroundings, and lost in wonder at the strange sights. Billy'slaugh rang out frequently, with refreshing spontaneity. Theirenjoyment was so evident that Redding was surprised, at the close ofthe first act, to see them put on their wraps and march solemnly outof the theater. He hastened to the lobby, and touched Billy on theshoulder. 

"Didn't you like the show?" he asked. 

"You bet!" said Billy, his eyes shining and his cheeks flushed. 

Mrs. Wiggs was hopelessly entangled in the crepe veil, but her ideasof etiquette were rigid. She disengaged one hand and said, withdignity: "I 'low this is Mr. Bob, Billy's friend. Happy to meet yeracquaintance. Asia, speak to the gentleman--Australia--Europena!"with a commanding nod at each. 

Three small hands were thrust at Redding simultaneously, and heaccommodated them all in his broad palm. 

"But why are you going home?" he asked, looking from one to theother. 

"Where else would we go to?" asked Mrs. Wiggs, in amazement. 

"Why not stay and see the play out? That was only the first act. "

"Is there some more, ma?" asked Asia, eagerly. 

"Why, of course, " explained Redding, "lots more. Now, go back, andstay until everybody has left the theater, and then you will becertain it's over. "

So back they went, furnishing an amusing entr'acte for the impatientaudience. 

After the curtain descended on the final tableau, Redding waited inthe lobby while the stream of people passed. The Wiggses had obeyedinstructions, and were the very last to come out. They seemed dazedby their recent glimpse into fairy-land. Something in their thinbodies and pinched faces made Redding form a sudden resolve. 

"Billy, " he said gravely, "can't you and your family take supperwith me?"

Billy and his mother exchanged doubtful glances; for the past threehours everything had been so strange and unusual that they werebewildered. 

"You see, we will go right over to Bond's and have something to eatbefore you go home, " urged Redding. 

Mrs. Wiggs was in great doubt, but one of the little girls pulledher skirt and said, in pleading tones: "Ma, let's do!" and Billywas already casting longing eyes at the big restaurant across theway. She had not the heart to refuse. As they were crossing thestreet, Asia stopped suddenly and cried:

"Ma, there's the 'Christmas Lady' gittin' in that hack! She seenus! Look!"

But before they could turn the carriage door had slammed. 

Redding took them into a small apartment, curtained off from therest of the cafe, so that only the waiters commented on the strangeparty. At first there was oppressive silence; then the host turnedto Europena and asked her what she liked best to eat. A moment oftorture ensued for the small lady, during which she nearly twistedher thumb from its socket, then she managed to gasp:

"Green pups!"

Mr. Bob laughed. "Why, you little cannibal!" he said. "What on earthdoes she mean?"

"Cream puffs, " explained Mrs. Wiggs, airily. "She et 'em onct atMrs. Reed's, the Bourbon Stock Yard's wife, an' she's been talkin''bout 'em ever sence. "

After this the ice, while not broken, at least had a crack in it, and by the time the first course was served Redding was telling thema funny story, and three of the audience were able to smile. It hadpleased him to order an elaborate supper, and he experienced thekeenest enjoyment over the novelty of the situation. The Wiggses ateas he had never seen people eat before. "For speed and durabilitythey break the record, " was his mental comment. He sat by and, withconsummate tact, made them forget everything but the good time theywere having. 

As the supper progressed, Mrs. Wiggs became communicative. She stillwore her black cotton gloves, and gesticulated with a chickencroquette as she talked. 

"Yes, " she was saying, "Jim was one of these handy childern; when hewas eight years old he could peddle as good as you could! I guessyou heard 'bout our roof; ever'body was talkin' 'bout it. Billy istakin' right after him; do you know what that boy has gone an' done?He's built his pa a monumint!"

"A monument!" exclaimed Redding. 

"Yes, sir, a tombstun monumint! I was allers a-wishin' that Mr. Wiggs could have a monumint, and Billy never said a word, but he sethis head to it. One day he come home with a lot of these here tileswhat they had throwed out from the tile fact'ry; some of 'em wasjes' a little nicked, an' the others was jes' as good as new. Well, he kep' on gittin' 'em ever' day or two, till he had a consider'blepile. Ever' night he used to set on the floor an' fool with themthings, a-fittin' 'em here an' crackin' 'em off there, but I neverpaid no 'tention to him. One night, when I come in from Mrs. Eichorn's, what did I see on the floor but a sure-'noughtombstun-slab, an' spelt out in little blue tiles down the middlewas:

"'Pa. Gone, but not forgotten. '

"I was jes' that pleased I set down an' bust out cryin'. We made asorter box to hold it, an' chinked it up with cement, an' las'Sunday me an' the childern took it out an' fixed it up on Mr. Wiggs's grave. Some day we are going to make Jimmy one; you knowJimmy's my boy that's dead. " Her eyes filled and her lipstrembled; even the sunshine of her buoyant nature could not dispelone shadow that always lay across her heart. 

At this moment Billy, doubtless thrilled at being the topic ofconversation, upset his glass of water, and the deluge descendedfull upon Australia, drenching the waist of the blue alpaca. Such awail as arose! Threats and persuasion were alike unavailing; sheeven refused to be mopped off, but slid in a disconsolate heap underthe table. Redding attempted to invade the citadel with an orange asa flag of truce, but his overtures were ineffectual, and he wascompelled to retreat under fire. 

"I'd leave her be, Mr. Bob, " advised Mrs. Wiggs, placidly, as shespread her salad on a piece of bread. "She'll git to holdin' herbreath if you notice her. "

The shrieks gradually diminished to spasmodic sobs, which in turngave place to ominous silence. 

"Billy, " said Redding, taking Mrs. Wiggs's advice and ignoring theflood sufferer, "how would you like to be my office-boy?"

"I'd like it a heap, " answered Billy, promptly. 

Redding turned to Mrs. Wiggs. "You see, it's a newspaper office, and while the pay isn't much at first, still it's better thanpeddling kindling, and there would be a chance for promotion as hegot older. "

"Oh, yes, " answered Mrs. Wiggs, complacently; "there wouldn't be notrouble 'bout Billy promotin'. I 'spect he could take to writin'newspapers right away, if you could hold him down to it. He's jes'like his pa--the very spittin' image of him! Mr. Wiggs was soeducated--the most fluent man in jography I ever seen!"

"I'm goin' to be like Mr. Bob when I grow up, " said Billy, stoutly. His recollection of his paternal parent was not the sort ideals aremade of. 

Just here the waiter appeared with the final course, and Asia liftedthe tablecloth and whispered, "Say, 'Straly, we 've got ice-cream. "No answer. Then little Europena, with baby wisdom, put her tow headunder the cloth, and said, "'Traly, it's pink!" and Australiaemerged, tear-stained but smiling, and finished her supper on Mr. Bob's knee. 

When the limit of capacity had been tested to the fullest, and Billyhad declared that "he couldn't swaller no more, he was jes'chawin', " Redding filled their pockets with candy and, when Mrs. Wiggs was not looking, put a quarter in each hand. Then he rang fora carriage, and, in spite of Mrs. Wiggs's protestations, he put themin, and repeated Billy's directions as to the exact location of theCabbage Patch. 

"My, my, ain't this nice!" said Mrs. Wiggs, leaning back againstcarriage cushions for the first time in her life, while Reddinglifted Europena in beside her. 

"We 've seed a good time fer onct in our lives, " said Asia. It wasthe first time she had spoken since they left the theater. 

"Lemme ride up on top, ma!" demanded Billy, eagerly. 

"Lemme, too, lemme!" came from the sleepy Australia, who did notknow what new attraction was being offered, but was resolved not tomiss anything. 

"All right, Billy; but, Austry, you must stay with ma. Good-by, Mr. Bob, and thanks--thanks fer one an' all!"

Redding stood on the corner where they had left him, and the smiledied out of his face. Within a block was a jolly crowd and a heartywelcome; across the street was the big apartment house where hisdark and cheerless window promised him nothing. For a moment hestood irresolute. "There is certainly nobody to care where I go, " hethought gloomily; then suddenly the smile came back. "But if I'm tobe Billy Wiggs's model, I guess I'd better go to bed. " He ranlightly across the street, and up the broad stone steps. 

CHAPTER VIII

MRS. WIGGS AT HOME

 "She had a sunny nature that sought, like a flower in a dark place, for the light. "

ON Christmas day Lucy Olcott stood by the library window, and idlyscratched initials on the frosty pane. A table full of beautifulgifts stood near, and a great bunch of long-stemmed roses on thepiano filled the room with fragrance. But Lucy evidently foundsomething more congenial in the dreary view outside. She was deep inthought when the door opened and Aunt Chloe came in with a basketand a note. 

The old darky grinned as she put the basket on the floor. "You might'a' knowed, it wuz fum dem Wiggses, " she said. 

Lucy opened the note and read: "Dear miss Lucy the basket of clothsand vittles come. We or so mutch obliged, and asia wore the readdress to the soshul and enjoyed her selph so. Much I wish you coulda went. Billy liked his hock and ladar and romcandons. Me and thechildern want to send you a crismas mess of some of all we lade infor to live on. They is pertaters 2 kines, onions, termaters, a jarvineger and a jar perservs. I boughten the peeches last sumer, theywas gitting a little rotting so I got them cheep. Hope you willEnjoy them. I send some of all we got but Cole and Flower. Thankesthankes to you for your kind fealings. "From yours no more "MRS. WIGGS. "

"Bless her old heart!" cried Lucy; "that's the biggest widow's miteI ever saw. Put the basket there with my other presents, Aunt Chloe;it's worth them all. "

She went over to the fire, and held her hands to the friendly blaze;there was a restless, discontented look in her eyes that proved onlytoo plainly that her Christmas was not a happy one. 

"I wish it was night, " she said. "I hate Christmas afternoon! Motheris asleep; it's too early for callers. I believe I'll go down tothe Cabbage Patch. "

Aunt Chloe stuck out her lip and rolled her eyes in deprecation. 

"Don' you do it, honey. What you wanter be foolin' 'round wif datpo' white trash fer? Why don' you set heah by de fiah an' bleach yerhan's fer de party to-might?"

"Bother the old party!" said Lucy, impatiently. She had begundisobeying Aunt Chloe when she was a very little girl. 

Fifteen minutes later she was tramping through the snow, her cheeksglowing and her spirits rising. The Wiggses, while alwaysinteresting, had of late acquired a new significance. Since seeingthem in the theater lobby with Robert Redding she had found itnecessary to make several visits to the Cabbage Patch, and the chieftopic of conversation had been Mr. Bob: how he had taken them to theshow; had made Billy his office-boy; had sent them a barrel ofapples, and was coming to see them some day. To which deluge ofinformation Lucy had listened with outward calmness and inwardthrills. 

To-day, as she entered the Wiggses' gate a shout greeted her. Billylet himself down from the chicken-coop roof, and ran forward. 

"Them Roman candles wasn't no good!" he cried. "One of 'em bustedtoo soon, and 'most blowed my hand off. "

"Oh, no, it didn't, Miss Lucy!" said Mrs. Wiggs, who had hastenedout to meet her. "Them Roman candons was fine. Billy's hand wasn'tso bad hurt he couldn't shoot his gum-bow shooter and break MissKrasmier's winder-pane. I'll be glad when to-morrow comes, an' hegoes back to the office! Come right in, " she continued. "Asia, dustoff a cheer fer Miss Lucy. That's right; now, lemme help you offwith yer things. "

"Lemme hold the muff!" cried Australia. 

"No, me--me!" shrieked Europena. 

A center rush ensued, during which the muff was threatened withimmediate annihilation. The umpire interfered. 

"Australia Wiggs, you go set in the corner with yer face to thewall. Europena, come here!" She lifted the wailing little girl toher lap, and looked her sternly in the eye. "If you don't hush thisminute, I'll spank your doll!"

The awful threat was sufficient. Mrs. Wiggs had long ago discoveredthe most effectual way of punishing Europena. 

When peace was restored, Lucy looked about her. In each window was apiece of holly tied with a bit of red calico, and on the partlycleared table she saw the remains of a real Christmas dinner. 

"We had a grand dinner to-day, " said Mrs. Wiggs, following herglance. "Mr. Bob sent the turkey; we et all we wanted, an' got'nough left fer the rest of the week, countin' hash an' soup an'all. Asia says she's goin' to hide it, so as I can't give no moreaway. By the way, do you notice what Asia's doin'?"

Lucy went to the window, where Asia was busily working. Thistaciturn little girl, with her old, solemn face and clever fingers, was her favorite of the children. 

"What are you making?" she asked, as the child dipped a brush intoone of three cans which stood before her. 

"She's paintin' a picture, " announced Mrs. Wiggs, proudly. "Lookedlike she was jes' crazy 'bout picture painting, an' I said, 'Well, Asia, if you have made up yer mind to be a artist, guess you'llhave to be one. ' Seems like when folks kin do pianner playin' an'picture paintin' it ain't right to let 'em wash dishes an' clean upall the time. So I went to a store an' ast fer some paint to makepictures with, and they wanted seventy cents fer a little box full. Ain't that a mighty heap, Miss Lucy, jes' fer plain paint, 'fore it's made up into flowers an' trees an' things? Well, anyway, I couldn'tgit it, but I come home an' got me three tin cans an' took 'em'round to Mr. Becker's paint-shop, an' he poured me a little red an'yaller an' blue, an' only charged me a nickel, an' throwed in abrush. Asia's painted a heap with it. I'll show you some of herthings. "

It was not necessary, for in every direction Lucy looked her eyeswere greeted with specimens of Asia's handiwork. Across thefoot-board of the bed was a spray of what might have passed forcauliflower, the tin boiler was encircled by a wreath ofimpressionistic roses, and on the window-pane a piece of exceedinglygolden goldenrod bent in an obliging curve in order to cover thecrack in the glass. 

"It's perfectly wonderful!" said Lucy, with entire truthfulness. 

"Ain't it?" said Mrs. Wiggs, with the awed tone one uses in thepresence of genius. "Sometimes I jes' can't believe my eyes, when Isee what my childern kin do! They inherit their education after Mr. Wiggs; he was so smart, an' b'longed to such a fine fambly. Why, Mr. Wiggs had real Injun blood in his veins; his grandpa was a squaw--afull-blood Injun squaw!"

Lucy made a heroic effort to keep a solemn face, as she asked ifAsia looked like him. 

"Oh, my, no!" continued Mrs. Wiggs. "He was a blunette, real darkcomplected. I remember when he fus' come a-courtin' me folks thoughthe was a Dago. Pa wasn't to say well off in those days. " Mrs. Wiggsnever applied superlatives to misfortunes. "He had a good many of usto take keer of, an' after Mr. Wiggs had been keepin' company withme fer 'bout two weeks he drove up one night with a load of coal an'kindlin', an' called pa out to the fence. 'Mr. Smoot, ' sez he, 'aslong as I am courtin' your daughter, I think I orter furnish thefire to do it by. Ef you don't mind, ' sez he, 'I'll jes' put thiswagon-load of fuel in the coal-house. I 'spect by the time it'sused up Nance'll be of my way of think-in'. ' An' I was!" added Mrs. Wiggs, laughing. 

Ordinarily Lucy found endless diversion in listening to the familyreminiscences, but to-day another subject was on her mind. 

"How is Billy getting along?" she asked. 

"Jes' fine!" said Mrs. Wiggs; "only he comes home at night 'mostdead. I give him money to ride, but ever' day last week he et up hisnickel. "

"Who--who has charge of him now?" Lucy blushed at her subterfuge. 

"Mr. Bob, " said Mrs. Wiggs; "he's the gentleman that took us tosupper. He's got money. Asia said he give the nigger waiter aquarter. Billy is jes' crazy 'bout Mr. Bob; says he's goin' to bejes' like him when he grows up. He will, too, if he sets his head toit! Only he never kin have them big brown eyes an' white teeth Mr. Bob's got. Why, when Mr. Bob smiles it jes' sort of breaks up hiswhole face. "

Lucy's eyes were fixed on the mammoth butterfly upon whoseiridescent wings Asia was putting the finishing touches, but herthoughts were far away. 

"I jes' wish you could see him!" went on Mrs. Wiggs, enthusiastically. 

"I wish I could!" said Lucy, with such fervor that Mrs. Wiggs pausedon her way to answer a knock at the outside door. 

There was a scraping of feet in the passage. 

"I have been driving all over the country looking for you, " said aman's voice. "I have some Christmas traps for the kids. "

Lucy rose hastily, and turned just as Redding entered. 

"Mr. Bob, this is Miss Lucy, " announced Mrs. Wiggs, triumphantly;"she was jes' 'lowin' she'd like to see you. "

If a blue-eyed angel straight from the peaks of paradise had beenpresented to him, Redding could not have been more astounded normore enraptured. 

But to Lucy it was a moment of intense chagrin and embarrassment. During the long silence of the past year she had persuaded herselfthat Redding no longer cared for her. To be thrust upon him in thisway was intolerable. All the blood in her veins rushed to her face. 

"Do you know where my muff is, Mrs. Wiggs?" she asked, after aformal greeting. 

"Oh! you ain't a-goin'?" asked the hostess, anxiously. "I wanted youall to git acquainted. "

"Yes, I must go, " said Lucy, hurriedly, "if you will find my muff. "

She stood nervously pulling on her gloves, while Mrs. Wiggs searchedfor the lost property. There was a deafening tumult in her heart, and though she bit her lips to keep from laughing, the tears stoodin her eyes. 

"Austry's under the bed, " announced Europena, who had joined in thequest. 

"I ain't!" came in shrill, indignant tones, as Mrs. Wiggs draggedforth the culprit, and restored the muff. 

"May I drive you over to the avenue? I am going that way. " It wasRedding's voice, but it sounded queer and unnatural. 

"Oh, no! No, thank you, " gasped Lucy, hardly knowing what she said. Her one idea was to get away before she broke down completely. 

Redding held the door open as she passed out. His face was cold, calm, inscrutable; not a quiver of the mouth, not a flutter of thelids, but the light went out of his eyes and hope died in his heart. 

Mrs. Wiggs stood watching the scene in perplexity. 

"I dunno what ailed Miss Lucy, " she said, apologetically; "hope itwasn't the toothache. "

CHAPTER IX

HOW SPRING CAME TO THE CABBAGE PATCH

 "The roads, the woods, the heavens, the hills Are not a world to-day-- But just a place God made for us In which to play. "

WHEN the last snow of the winter had melted, and the water was nolonger frozen about the corner pump, the commons lost their hard, brown look, and a soft green tinge appeared instead. There were notmany ways of telling when spring came to the Cabbage Patch; no treesshook forth their glad little leaves of welcome, no anemones andsnow-drops brought the gentle message, even the birds that wingedtheir way from the South-land hurried by, without so much as a chirpof greeting. 

But the Cabbage Patch knew it was spring, nevertheless; somethingwhispered it in the air, a dozen little signs gave the secret away;weeds were springing up in the fence corners, the puddles which afew months ago were covered with ice now reflected bits of blue sky, and the best token of all was the bright, warm sunshine that clungto the earth as if to love it back into beauty and life again. 

One afternoon Mrs. Wiggs stood at her gate talking to Redding. Itwas the first time he had been there since Christmas day, for hisfirst visit had been too painful for him to desire to repeat it. 

"Yes, indeed, Billy kin go, " Mrs. Wiggs was saying. "I'm mightyglad you drove him by home to git on his good coat. He never was tothe fair grounds before; it'll be a big treat. How's Mr. Dickto-day?"

"No better, " said Redding; "he coughed all night. "

"He was takin' a nap o' sleep when I went to clean up this mornin', "said Mrs. Wiggs, "so I didn't disturb him. He ain't fer long, porefeller!"

"No, poor chap, " said Redding, sadly. 

Mrs. Wiggs saw the shadow on his face, and hastened to change thesubject. "What do you think of Asia's fence?" she asked. 

"What about it?"

"She done it herself, " said Mrs. Wiggs. "That an' the pavement, too. Mrs. Krasmier's goat et up her flowers las' year, an' this year she'lowed she'd fix it different. Chris Hazy, that boy over yonderwith the peg-stick, helped her dig the post-boles, but she done therest herself. "

"Well, she is pretty clever!" said Redding, almost incredulously, ashe examined the fence and sidewalk. "How old is she?"

"Fourteen, goin' on to fifteen. Asia, come here. "

The girl left the flower-bed she was digging, and came forward. 

"Not a very big girl, are you?" said Redding, smiling at her. "Howwould you like to go up to the tile factory, and learn to dodecorating?"

Her serious face lit up with great enthusiasm; she forgot hershyness, and said, eagerly: "Oh, yes, sir! Could I?"

Before Redding could answer, Mrs. Wiggs broke in:

"You'd be gittin' a artist, Mr. Bob! Them fingers of hers kin doanything. Last fall she built that there little greenhouse out ofole planks, an' kep' it full of flowers all winter; put a lamp indurin' the cold spell. You orter see the things she's painted. Andtalk about mud pictures! She could jes' take some of that there mudunder that hoss's feet, an' make it look so much like you, youwouldn't know which was which. "

Billy's appearance at this moment saved Redding from immediatedisgrace. 

"You come to the office with Billy in the morning, " he called toAsia, as they started off; "we'll see what can be done. "

Asia went back to her digging with a will; the prospect of work, oflearning how to do things right, and, above all, of learning how topaint, filled her with happiness. 

"If I was you I'd make that bed in the shape of a star, " said hermother, breaking in on her rejections. "Why don't you make it amason star? Yer pa was a fine mason; it would be a sort ofcompliment to him. "

"What is a mason star like?" asked Asia. 

"Well, now I ain't right sure whether it 'a got five points or six. Either way will do. Lands alive, I do believe there comes MissLucy!"

Lucy Olcott had been a frequent visitor of late. Through Mrs. Wiggsshe had gotten interested in Mrs. Schultz, and often stopped in toread to the bedridden old lady. Here, of course, she heard a greatdeal about the Eichorns, the elite of the Cabbage Patch, whosedomestic infelicities furnished the chief interest in Mrs. Schultz'slife. Lucy had even stood on a chair, at the invalid's earnestrequest, to count the jars of preserves in the Eichorn pantry. Latershe had become acquainted with Miss Hazy, the patient little womanin monochrome, whose whole pitiful existence was an apology when itmight have been a protest. 

In fact, Lucy became an important personage in the neighborhood. Shewas sought for advice, called upon for comfort, and asked to sharemany joys. Her approach was usually heralded by a shout, "That'sher a-comin'!" and she was invariably escorted across the commons bya guard of ragged but devoted youngsters. And the friendship ofthese simple people opened her eyes to the great problems ofhumanity, and as she worked among them and knew life as it was, thehard little bud of her girlhood blossomed into the great soft roseof womanhood. 

"Didn't you meet Mr. Bob up the street?" asked Mrs. Wiggs, as sheled the way into the kitchen. "Him an' Billy have jes' left, goin'out to the fair grounds. Mr. Bob's jes' naturally the best man Iever set eyes on, Miss Lucy! Got the biggest heart, an' always doin'something kind fer folks. Jes' now talkin' 'bout gittin' Asia aplace at the tile fact'ry. I don't see how you missed 'em! If he'da sawn you with them vi'lets in yer belt, an' them roses in yercheeks, I bet he wouldn't 'a' went. "

"Oh, yes, he would!" said Lucy, emphatically. "My roses don't appealto Mr. Bob. "

"Well, he likes yer eyes, anyway, " said Mrs. Wiggs, determined tocarry her point. 

"Who said so?" demanded Lucy. 

"He did. I ast him. I said they was regular star-eyes, jes' shiningblue with them black eyelashes rayin' out all 'round, an' he saidyes, that was the right name fer 'em--star-eyes. "

There was a mist over the star-eyes as Lucy turned away. 

"That's right; set right down there by the winder. It's so prettyout today it makes you feel good clean down yer back. "

"I believe you always feel that way, " said Lucy, pulling off hergloves. "Don't you ever worry over things?"

Mrs. Wiggs grew serious. "I'm lonesome fer Jimmy all the time, " shesaid simply. "Some folks goes right under when trouble comes, but Icarry mine fur an' easy. "

"I don't mean grieving, " said Lucy; "I mean worrying and fretting. "

"Well, yes, " admitted Mrs. Wiggs, taking a hot iron from the stove, "I 've done that, too. I remember onct last winter I was tookensick, an' I got to pesterin' 'bout what the childern 'ud do if Idied. They wasn't no money in the house, an' they didn't knowwhere to git none. All one night I laid there with my head 'mostbustin', jes' worryin' 'bout it. By an' by I was so miserable I astthe Lord what I mus' do, an' he tole me. " There was absoluteconviction in her tone and manner. "Nex' mornin', " she went on, "soon's I could I went over to the 'spensary an' ast fer the chiefdoctor. 

"'Doctor, ' I sez, 'don't you buy corpses?'

"'Yes, ' sez he, lookin' kinder funny. 

"'Well, ' sez I, 'I want to sell mine. '

"Then I tole him all 'bout it, an' ast him if he wouldn't take mybody after I was gone, an' give the money to the childern. 

"'Will you put it in writin', ' sez he. 

"'Yes, ' sez I, 'if you'll do the same. '

"So he drawed up the papers, an' we both signed, an' a man with aspine in his back an' a lady with the rheumatiz witnessed it. So yousee, " concluded Mrs. Wiggs, "I didn't die; you mark my words, itain't never no use puttin' up yer umbrell' till it rains!"

Lucy laughed. "Well, you certainly practise what you preach. "

"Not always, " said Mrs. Wiggs. "I'm 'feared I use' to worry someover Mr. Wiggs. T'words the last he uster pretty often--" HereMrs. Wiggs tipped an imaginary bottle to her lips, and gave Lucy asignificant wink. Even in the strictest confidence, she could notbear to speak of the weakness of the late lamented. 

"But no matter how bad he done, he always tried to do better. Mr. Dick sorter puts me in mind of him 'bout that. "

"Who is Mr. Dick?"

"He's Mr. Bob's friend. Stays at his rooms sence he was took down. "

"Is Mr. Redding sick?" asked Lucy, the color suddenly leaving herface. 

"No, it's Mr. Dick; he's consumpted. I clean up his room ever'mornin' He coughs all the time, jes' like Mr. Wiggs done. Other dayhe had a orful spell while I was there. I wanted to git him somewhisky, but he shuck his head. 'I'm on the water-cart, ' sez he. 'Bob's drivin' it. ' He ain't no fatter 'n a knittin'-needle, an'weaker 'n water. You orter see him watch fer Mr. Bob! He sets by thewinder, all propped up with pillars, an' never tecks his eyes offenthat corner. An' when Mr. Bob comes in an' sets down by him an'tells him what's goin' on, an' sorter fools with him a spell, lookslike he picks up right off. He ain't got no folks nor nothin'--jes, Mr. Bob. He shorely does set store by him--jes' shows itever' way. That's right, too. I hold that it's wrong to keepever'thing bottled up inside you. Yer feelin's is like ras'berryvineger: if you 're skeered to use 'em an' keep on savin' 'em, firstthing you know they 've done 'vaporated!"

Lucy's experience had proved the contrary, but she smiled bravelyback at Mrs. Wiggs, with a new tenderness in her face. 

"You have taught me lots of things!" she said impulsively. "You areone of the best and happiest women I know. "

"Well, I guess I ain't the best by a long sight, but I may be thehappiest. An' I got cause to be: four of the smartest childern thatever lived, a nice house, fair to middlin' health when I ain't gotthe rheumatiz, and folks always goin' clean out of the way to begood to one! Ain't that 'nough to make a person happy? I'll befifty years old on the Fourth of July, but I hold there ain't no usein dyin' 'fore yer time. Lots of folks is walkin' 'round jes' asdead as they'll ever be. I believe in gittin' as much good outenlife as you kin--not that I ever set out to look fer happiness;seems like the folks that does that never finds it. I jes' do thebest I kin where the good Lord put me at, an' it looks like I got ahappy feelin' in me 'most all the time. "

Lucy sat silent for a while, gazing out of the window. Mrs. Wiggs'sphilosophy was having its effect. Presently she rose and untied thebundle she held. 

"Here is a dress I brought for Asia, " she said, shaking out thefolds of a soft crepon. 

"Umph, umph! Ain't that grand?" exclaimed Mrs. Wiggs, coming frombehind the ironing-board to examine it. "It does seem lucky thatyour leavin's jes' fits Asia, an' Asia's jes' fits Austry; thereain't no symptoms of them bein' handed down, neither! We all modelright after you, but it looks like Asia's the only one that ketchesyer style. Oh, must you go?" she added, as Lucy picked up hergloves. 

"Yes; I promised Mrs. Schultz to read to her this afternoon. "

"Well, stop in on yer way back--I'll have a little present readyfor you. " It was an unwritten law that no guest should departwithout a gift of some kind. Sometimes it was one of Asia'spaintings, again it was a package of sunflower seed, or a bottle ofvinegar, and once Lucy had taken home four gourds and a bunch ofpaper roses. 

"I declare I never will git no work done if this weather keeps up!"said Mrs. Wiggs, as she held the gate open. "If I wasn't so stoveup, an' nobody wasn't lookin', I'd jes' skitter 'round this hereyard like a colt!"

CHAPTER X

AUSTRALIA'S MISHAP

 "'T is one thing to be tempted, Another thing to fall. "

THROUGH the long, sunny afternoon Mrs. Wiggs sang over her ironing, and Asia worked diligently in her flower-bed. Around the corner ofthe shed which served as Cuba's dwelling-place, Australia andEuropena made mud-pies. Peace and harmony reigned in this shabbyGarden of Eden until temptation entered, and the weakest fell. 

"'T ain't no fun jes' keepin' on makin' mud-pies, " announcedAustralia, after enough pastry had been manufactured to start aminiature bakery. 

"Wish we could make some white cakes, like they have at Mr. Bagby's, " said Europena. 

"Could if we had some whitewash. I'll tell you what's let do! Let's take some of Asia's paint she's goin' to paint the fence with, an' make 'em green on top. "

"Ma wouldn't like it, " protested Europena; "besides, I don't wantmy little pies green. "

"I'm goin' to, " said Australia, beginning her search for thepaint-can. "It won't take but a little teeny bit; they'll nevermiss it. "

After some time the desired object was discovered on a shelf in theshed. Its high position enhanced its value, giving it the cruelfascination of the unattainable. 

"Could you stand up on my soldiers, like the man at the show?"demanded Australia. 

"I'd fall off, " said Europena. 

"'Fraid-cat!" taunted her sister, in disgust. "Do you reckon youcould hol' the chair while I climbed up on the back?"

"It ain't got no bottom. "

"Well, it don't need to have no bottom if I'm goin' to stand on itsback, " said Australia, sharply. Leaders of great enterprises must ofnecessity turn deaf ears to words of discouragement. 

"You might git killed, " persisted Europena. 

"'T wouldn't matter, " said Australia, loftily; "'t wouldn't be butthe seventh time. I got three more times to die. 'Fore you wasborned I was drowned out in the country, that was one time; then Ifell in the ash-bar'l and was dead, that's two times; an'--an'then I et the stove-polish, that's four times; an' I can't 'member, but the nex' time will be seven. I don't keer how much I git killed, till it's eight times, then I'm goin' to be good all the time, 'cause when you are dead nine times they put you in a hole an' throwdirt on you!"

Australia had become so absorbed in her theory of reincarnation thatshe had forgotten the paint, but the bottomless chair recalled it. 

"Now, you lay 'crost the chair, Europena, an' I'll climb up, " shecommanded. 

Europena, though violently opposed to the undertaking, would notforsake her leader at a critical moment. She had uttered herprotest, had tried in vain to stem the current of events; nothingwas left her now but to do or die. She valiantly braced her smallbody across the frame of the chair, and Australia began her perilousascent. 

Cuba looked mildly astonished as the plump figure of the little girlappeared above his feed-box. 

"I 've 'most got it!" cried Australia, reaching as high as possible, and getting her forefinger over the edge of the big can. 

At this juncture Cuba, whose nose had doubtless been tickled byAustralia's apron-string, gave a prodigious sneeze. Europena, feeling that retribution was upon them, fled in terror. The ballastbeing removed from the chair, the result was inevitable. A crash, aheterogeneous combination of small girl, green paint, and shatteredchair, then a series of shrieks that resembled the whistles on NewYear's eve!

Redding was the first to the rescue. He had just driven Billy to thegate when the screams began, and with a bound he was out of thebuggy and rushing to the scene of disaster. The picture that met hiseyes staggered him. Australia, screaming wildly, lay in whatappeared to his excited vision to be a pool of green blood; Europenawas jumping up and down beside her, calling wildly for her mother, while Cuba, with ears erect and a green liquid trickling down hisnose, sternly surveyed the wreck. In a moment Redding had Australiain his arms, and was mopping the paint from her face and hair. 

"There, there, little sister, you aren't much hurt!" he was saying, as Mrs. Wiggs and Asia rushed in. 

The damage done proved external rather than internal, so afterassuring herself that no bones were broken Mrs. Wiggs constitutedherself a salvage corps. 

"Take off yer coat out here, Mr. Bob, an' I'll take off Austry'sdress. Them's the worst, 'ceptin' her plaits. Now, we'll all go upto the kitchen, an' see what kin be did. "

Now, Fate, or it may have been the buggy at the gate, decreed thatjust as they turned the corner of the house, Lucy Olcott should becoming up the walk. For a moment she stood bewildered at the sightthat greeted her. Redding, in his shirt sleeves, was leadingAustralia by the hand; the little girl wore a red-flannel petticoat, and over her face and hands and to the full length of her flaxenbraids ran sticky streams of bright green paint. 

Involuntarily, Lucy looked at Redding for explanation, and they bothlaughed. 

"Ain't it lucky it was the back of her head 'stid of the front?"said Mrs. Wiggs, coming up; "it might 'a' put her eyes out. Porechile, she looks like a Mollygraw! Come right in, an' let's git towork. "

Billy was despatched for turpentine; Lucy, with an apron pinnedabout her, began operations on Australia's hair, while Redding sathelplessly by, waiting for Mrs. Wiggs to make his coat presentable. 

"I am afraid her hair will have to be cut, " said Lucy, ruefully, asshe held up a tangled snarl of yellow and green. 

"All right, " Mrs. Wiggs said promptly. "Whatever you say is allright. "

But Australia felt differently; her sobs, suppressed for a time, broke forth afresh. 

"I ain't goin' to have my hair cut off!" she wept. "Jes' leave it onthis a-way. "

Mrs. Wiggs commanded and Lucy entreated in vain. Finally Reddingdrew his chair up in front of the small girl. 

"Australia, listen to me just a moment, won't you? Please!"

She uncovered one eye. 

"You wouldn't want green hair, would you?"

A violent shake of the head. 

"Well, if you will let Miss Olcott cut off all that ugly green hair, and give the pretty curls a chance to grow back, I'll give you--let'ssee, what shall I give you?"

"A doll-buggy an' dishes, " suggested Europena, who was standing by. 

"Yes, " he said, "doll-buggy and dishes, and a dollar besides!"

Such munificence was not to be withstood. Australia suffered herselfto be shorn, in view of the future tempering of the wind. 

"You orter been a hoss-trainer, Mr. Bob, " said Mrs. Wiggs, admiringly, when the deed was accomplished; "yer voice jes' makesfolks do things!"

"Not everybody, Mrs. Wiggs, " he said grimly. 

"Where do you suppose Billy's went with the turkentine? I declarethat boy would be a good one to send after trouble! Oh, you ain'tgoin' to try an' wear it this a-way?" she said, as Redding insistedon putting on his coat. 

As he turned to the door, a light hand touched his arm. Lucyunfastened the violets at her belt, and timidly held them towardhim. 

"Will you take them--to Dick?" she faltered. 

He looked at her in amazement. For a moment neither spoke, but hereyes made the silence eloquent; they told the secret that her lipsdared not utter. There are times when explanations are superfluous. Redding threw discretion to the winds, and, regardless of Wiggsesand consequences, took the "Christmas Lady" in his arms, and kissedaway the year of grief and separation. 

It was not until Mrs. Wiggs saw their trap disappear in the twilightthat she recovered her speech. 

"Well, it certainly do beat me!" she exclaimed, after a fruitlesseffort to reconstruct her standard of propriety. "I 've heard of'painters' colic, ' but I never knowed it to go to the head before!"

CHAPTER XI

THE BENEFIT DANCE

 "Those there are whose hearts have a slope southward, and are open to the whole noon of Nature. "

NOTWITHSTANDING the fact that calamities seldom come singly, it wasnot until the Fourth of July that the Cabbage Patch was again thescene of an accident. 

Mrs. Wiggs had been hanging out clothes, and was turning to pick upthe empty basket, when Billy precipitated himself into the yard, yelling wildly:

"Chris Hazy's broke his leg!"

Mrs. Wiggs threw up her hands in horror. "Good lands, Billy!Where's he at?"

"They 're bringin' him up the railroad track. "

Mrs. Wiggs rushed into the house. "Don't let on to Miss Hazy till wegit him in, " she cautioned, snatching up a bundle of rags and abottle of liniment. "Pore chile! How it must hurt him! I'll rundown the track an' meet 'em. "

She was breathless and trembling from excitement as she turned thecorner at Mrs. Schultz's. A crowd of boys were coming up the track, trundling a wheelbarrow, in which sat Chris Hazy, the merriest ofthe lot, waving a piece of his wooden leg in the air. 

Mrs. Wiggs turned upon Billy;

"I never lied, ma! I said he broke his leg, " the boy gasped out asbest he could for laughing, "an' you never ast which one. Oh, boys!Git on to the rags an' arniky!"

Such a shout went up that Mrs. Wiggs laughed with the rest, but onlyfor a moment, for she spied Miss Hazy tottering toward them, and shehastened forward to relieve her anxiety. 

"It's his peg-stick!" she shouted. "P-e-g-stick!"

This information, instead of bringing relief to Miss Hazy, caused afresh burst of tears. She sat down on the track, with her apron overher face, and swayed backward and forward. 

"Don't make much difference which one 't was, " she sobbed; "it wouldbe 'bout as easy to git another sure-'nough leg as to git a newwooden one. That las' one cost seven dollars. I jes' sewed an' savedan' scrimped to git it, an' now it's--busted!"

The boys stood around in silent sympathy, and when nobody waslooking Chris wiped his eyes on his coat sleeve. Miss Hazy'sarrival had changed their point of view. 

Mrs. Wiggs rose to the occasion. 

"Boys, " she said, and her voice had an inspiring ring, "I'll tellyou what let's do! Let's give a benefit dance to-night, an' buyChris Hazy a new peg-stick. Every feller that's willin' to help, hol' up his hand. "

A dozen grimy hands were waved on high, and offers of assistancecame from all sides. Mrs. Wiggs saw that now was the time to utilizetheir enthusiasm. 

"I'll go right back to the house, an' git Asia to write out thetickets, an' all you boys kin sell ten apiece. Miss Hazy, you kincome over an' help me git the house ready, an' we'll put Chris tocleanin' lamp-chimbleys. "

Under this able generalship, the work was soon under way; the boyswere despatched with the tickets, and the house was being putstraight--at least the parlor was. It would have required manydays to restore order to the chaos that habitually existed in thehouse of Wiggs. 

"Asia, you help me roll these here barrels out on the porch, an' I'll mop up the floor, " said Mrs. Wiggs. "Miss Hazy, you look 'roundin the kitchen, an' see if you can't find a taller candle. Seemslike I put one in the sugar-bowl--that's it! Now, if you'll jes'cut it up right fine it'll be all ready to put on the floor when Igit done. "

When the floor was dry and the candle sprinkled over it, Australiaand Europena were detailed to slide upon it until it became slick. 

"Would you ast ever'body to bring a cheer, or would you have 'emalready here?" asked Mrs. Wiggs. 

"Oh, le' 's bring 'em ourselves!" insisted Asia, who had been to achurch social. 

So a raid was made on the neighborhood, and every available chairborrowed and ranged against the parlor wall. 

By noon the boys reported most of the tickets sold, and Mrs. Wiggsreceived the funds, which amounted to six dollars. 

It being a holiday, everybody was glad to come to the dance, especially as the proceeds were to help little Miss Hazy. 

At one time there threatened to be trouble about the music; somewanted Uncle Tom, the old negro who usually fiddled at the dances, and others preferred to patronize home talent and have Jake Schultz, whose accordion could be heard at all hours in the Cabbage Patch. 

Mrs. Wiggs effected a compromise. "They kin take turn about, " sheargued; "when one gits tired, the other kin pick up right where heleft oft, an' the young folks kin shake the'r feet till they shoesdrop off. Uncle Tom an' Jake, too, is a heap sight better than themmud-gutter bands that play 'round the streets. "

"Wisht we could fix the yard up some, " said Asia, when there wasnothing more to be done in the parlor. 

"I got a Japanee lantern, " suggested Miss Hazy, doubtfully. 

"The very thing!" said Mrs. Wiggs. "We'll hang it in the frontdoor. Billy's makin' a Jack o' lantern to set on the fence. Fer theland's sake! what's John Bagby a-bringing' in here?"

The grocery boy, staggering under the weight of an ice-cream freezerand carrying something wrapped in white paper, came up the path. 

"It's fer you, " he said, grinning broadly. John was cross-eyed, soMiss Hazy thought he looked at Mrs. Wiggs, and Mrs. Wiggs thought helooked at Miss Hazy. 

However, the card on the freezer dispelled all doubt: "Fer mrs Wiggson her 50 Birthday compelments of The Naybors. "

Under the white paper was a large, white iced cake, with a "W" incinnamon drops on top. 

"How'd they ever know it was my birthday?" exclaimed Mrs. Wiggs, indelight. "Why, I'd even forgot it myself! We'll have the cake ferthe party to-night. Somehow, I never feel like good things b'long tome till I pass 'em on to somebody else. "

This necessitated a supply of saucers and spoons, and friends wereagain called upon to provide as many as possible. 

The Wiggses were quite busy until seven o'clock, when they stoppedto make their toilets. 

"Where's Europena?" asked Asia. 

Nobody had seen her for some time. Search was made, and she wasdiscovered standing on a chair in a corner of the parlor, calmlyeating the cinnamon drops off the birthday cake. Fingers and mouthwere crimson, and the first stroke of the "W" was missing. Billy wasso indignant that he insisted on immediate punishment. 

"No, I ain't a-goin' to whip her on my birthday, Billy. She'ssorry; she says she is. Besides, the cake ain't spoiled; it's jes'a 'N' now, 'stid of a 'W, ' an' N stands fer Nancy jes' as good as Wstands fer Wiggs!"

The first guest to arrive was Mr. Krasmier; he had paid ten centstoward the refreshments, and proposed to get his money's worth. Mrs. Eichorn came early, too, but for a different reason; she was verystout, and her happiness for the evening depended largely upon thesize of the chair she secured. 

Half the spectators had arrived before the hostess appeared. Herdelay was caused by the loss of her false curls, which she had notworn since the memorable night at the Opera House. They were veryblack and very frizzled, and had been bought at a reduced price froma traveling salesman some ten years before. Mrs. Wiggs consideredthem absolutely necessary to her toilet on state occasions. Henceconsternation prevailed when they could not be found. Drawers wereupset and boxes emptied, but with no success. 

When hope was about abandoned, Asia suddenly darted out to the shedwhere the children kept their play-things. When she returned shetriumphantly displayed a battered doll, armless and footless, butwith a magnificent crowning glory of black, frizzed hair. 

Mrs. Wiggs waited until all the guests assembled before she made herspeech of thanks for the cake and cream. It was a very fine speech, having been written out beforehand by Mr. Bagby. It began, "Ladiesand gents, it gives me pleasure--" but before Mrs. Wiggs got halfthrough she forgot it, and had to tell them in her own way howgrateful she was. In conclusion she said: "Couldn't nobody be moreobliged than what I am! Looks like nice things is always comin' myway. Hope God'll bless you all! The musicianers have come, so we'll begin the party with a Virginer reel. "

The young people scampered to their places, and when Mr. Eichornmade a bow to Mrs. Wiggs she laughingly took her place at the headof the line, and at the first strains of "Old Dan Tucker" she wentdown the middle with a grace and spirit that flatly contradicted thelittle red fifty on the birthday cake. 

"Swing yer pahtners, balance all, Swing dat gal wid a water-fall. Skip light, ladies, de cake's all dough, Nebber min' de weather, sode win' don't blow. "

Old Uncle Tom was warming up to his work, and the fun waxed furious. Asia, looking very pretty in her new crepon, cast shy glances at JoeEichorn, who had been "keeping company" of late. Billy, for whomthere was no room in the reel, let off his energy in the corner by anoisy execution of the "Mobile Buck. " Australia and Europena sat inthe window with Chris Hazy, and delightedly clapped time to themusic. 

When the dance ended, Mrs. Wiggs went to the door to get cool. Shewas completely out of breath, and her false front had worked its waydown over her eyebrows. 

"Look--comin', ma!" called Billy. 

When Mrs. Wiggs saw who it was she hastened down to the gate. 

"Howdy, Mr. Bob; howdy, Miss Lucy! Can't you git right out an' comein? We 're havin' a birthday party an' a benefit dance fer ChrisHazy's leg. "

"No, thanks, " said Redding, trying in vain not to look at Mrs. Wiggs's head. "We just stopped by to tell you the good news. "

"'Bout Asia's position?" asked Mrs. Wiggs, eagerly. 

"Yes, about that, and something else besides. What would you say ifI told you that I was going to marry the prettiest, sweetest, dearest girl in the world?"

"Why, that's Miss Lucy!" gasped Mrs. Wiggs, more breathless thanever. Then the truth flashed upon her, and she laughed with them. 

"Oh, sure 'nough! Sure 'nough! I'm jes' pleased to death!" She didnot have to tell them; her eyes, though suffering a partial eclipse, fairly beamed with joy and satisfaction. "An' so, " she added, "itwasn't the paint, after all!"

When they had driven away, she lingered a moment at the gate. Musicand laughter came from the house behind her, as she stood smilingout across the moonlit Cabbage Patch. Her face still held thereflected happiness of the departed lovers, as the sky holds therose-tints after the sun has gone. 

"An' they 're goin' to git married, " she whispered softly toherself; "an' Billy's got promoted, an' Asia's got a place, an'Chris'll have a new peg-stick. Looks like ever'thing in the worldcomes right, if we jes' wait long enough!"