The Wit and Humor of America Volume V Part 19

The sun was s.h.i.+ning into the front windows of a room on the first floor of a high tenement down on the east side. A snow-white bed stood far enough from the wall to allow it to be made up with perfect ease. In front of it stood a screen covered with pretty chintz; white muslin curtains hung at the windows; everything was spotless from the kalsomined ceiling to the oiled floors, where a few bright-colored rugs made walking possible. As Katherine Anderson explained to some scoffing friends who came down to take luncheon with her.

"Everything is clean and in its proper place and the object-lesson is invaluable to these poor children. If you go into their homes you will find that the bed is a bundle of rags in some dark closet, while the front room is kept for company. Here I show them how easily this sunny room is made into a sitting-room by putting that screen in front of the bed and then there is a healthful place to sleep. You may think that I am over-enthusiastic, but I enjoy my cla.s.ses and I a.s.sure you they are _all day long_, for besides the usual schoolroom work we have cooking cla.s.ses, physical culture, nature cla.s.ses and little talks about all sorts of things. I have one girl who I know is going to be a great novelist, she has such an imagination," said Katherine. "Her big sister always has a duplicate of anything of mine the child happens to admire, and the other day she came rus.h.i.+ng in with the tale that 'burglars' had broken into their house the night before and stolen twenty bottles of ketchup and 'some _preserts_.'"

"Had they?" asked the guest. "What peculiar taste in burglary!"

"No," laughed Katherine; "she has no big sister and their house is one back room four flights up."

Four weeks had pa.s.sed since the Morrison dinner, and Katherine was tired. Then, too, she was not altogether sure that her mission was a success. Was she wis.h.i.+ng for the fleshpots of upper Fifth Avenue, or was it just physical weariness that would pa.s.s with the night? She had sent off a note in the morning:

"MY DEAR EVERETT--The work of the model flat is still in existence, and it is almost a month--a whole month. On Sat.u.r.day afternoon I am expecting some of the mothers to come and tell me what they think of the work we are doing for their children. They will probably be gone by five o'clock, and if you care to come down at that time I might be induced to go out to dinner with you. Don't bother about a chaperon. As I feel now, I could chaperon a chorus girl myself.

"Cordially, "KATHERINE."

Whether the meeting at Mrs. Kelly's had been called together by engraved cards, by postals, or simply by shrieking from one window to another, I do not know, but there was evidently some excitement, some deep feeling which needed expression among the little crowd of women in the fourth floor, back.

"I tell ye," shouted Mrs. Kelly, to make herself heard above the din of many voices, "I tell ye we must organize, an' Tim Kelly himself says it.

Only last Satady night, an' him swearin' wid hunger, an' me faintin' wid the big wash I had up the Avenoo, what did we come home to but hull wheat bred an' ags olla Beckymell. There stood my Katy, wid her han's on her hips, a-sayin' as 'teacher said' them things was nouris.h.i.+ner than b'iled cabbage. Well, Tim was that mad he broke every plate on the table an' then went and drank hisself stiff in Casey's saloon."

"And what do ye think," cried Mrs. McGinniss, as Mrs. Kelly stopped for breath, "the other night, when me an' some frinds was comin' in for a quiet avenin', we found my Ellen Addy had hauled the bed into the front room, an' she an' the young ones was all asleep, an' up to the winders was my best petticut cut in two. When I waked her up she whined, 'Teacher says it ain't healthy to sleep in back.' Did ye ever hear the like of that? an' every blessed one of them kids born there!"

"Now, wha' d'ye think o' that?" murmured the crowd.

Mrs. Kelly caught her breath and began again. "I've axed ye to come here because teacher sent word that she'd like the mothers to come of a Satady and tell her how they liked what she was doin' for the young ones. Tim says as they sends a committee from men's meetings, and I think if Mrs. McGinniss, Mrs. McGraw and me was to riprisint this gatherin' we could tell her how we all feels."

It was Sat.u.r.day afternoon, and the model flat was in perfect order, while the little servant, called "friend" by Miss Anderson, waited in her spotless ap.r.o.n to answer the bell. Another object-lesson for the mothers who were expected. The bell rang and three women walked soberly into the little hall.

"I am so glad to see you, Mrs. Kelly, and you, Mrs. McGinniss." She hesitated at the third name.

"'Tis Mrs. McGraw," said Mrs. Kelly.

"Bring the tea, Louisa," said Miss Anderson, "and then I want to show you how pleasant my home is here."

Mrs. Kelly gave a sniff. "Hum, yessum, it's sunny, but I've seen your home up town, and it's beyond the likes of me to see why you're down here at all, at all."

"Yes," said Mrs. McGinniss, "an' I've come to say that you'd better stay up there an' stop teachin' my childer about their insides. I'm tired of hearin' 'I can't eat this an' I can't eat that, cause teacher says there ain't no food walue.' An' there's Mrs. Polinski, down the street, says she'll have no more foolishness."

Mrs. Kelly had caught her breath again. "Her Rebecca come home only yestidy an' cut all the st.i.tches in Ikey's clo'es, an' him sewed up for the winter."

Just then a woman with a shawl over her head came in without knocking.

With a nod to the three women, she faced the teacher. "Now, I'd like to know one thing," she said; "you sent my Josie home this morning to wash the patchouly offen her hair; now, I want to know just one thing--does she come here to be smelt or to be learnt?"

"There's another thing, too," said Mrs. Kelly; "I want that physical torture business stopped. The young ones are tearin' all their clo'es off, an' it's _got to be stopped_!"

Katherine looked a little dazed and her voice trembled a bit as she said: "Wouldn't you like to look at the flat?"

"No, Miss, we wouldn't," said Mrs. Kelly. "You're a nice young woman, and you don't mean no harm, but it's the sinse av the committee that you're b.u.t.tin' in. Good day to ye." And they filed slowly out.

Katherine, with cheeks aflame, turned toward the door. There was a twinkle in Landon's eyes as he said:

"Are you quite ready for dinner, dear?"

There was a little break in her voice, and she gave him both her hands.

"Quite ready for--for anything, Everett."

QUIT YO' WORRYIN'

BY ANNE VIRGINIA CULBERTSON

n.i.g.g.e.r nuver worry,-- Too much sense fer dat, Let de white folks scurry Roun' an' lose dey fat, n.i.g.g.e.r gwine be happy, nuver-min'-you whar he at.

n.i.g.g.e.r jes' kain't worry,-- Set him down an' try, No use, honey, fer he Sho' ter close he eye, Git so pow'ful sleepy dat he pa.s.s he troubles by.

Cur'ous, now, dis trouble Older dat hit grown, 'Stid er gittin' double, Dwinnle ter de bone; n.i.g.g.e.r know dat, so dat why he lef' he troubles 'lone.

n.i.g.g.e.r nuver hurry, Dem w'at wants ter may; Hurry hit mek worry!

Now you year me say Ain' gwine hurry down de road ter meet ol' Def half-way!

Den quit yo' hurryin', Quit yo' worryin'!

W'at de use uv all dis scurryin'?

Mek ol' Time go sof' an' slow, Tell him you doan' want no mo'

Dish yer uverlastin' flurryin',-- Jes' a trick er his fer hurryin'

Folks de faster to'des dey burryin'!

HER "ANGEL" FATHER[3]

BY ELLIOTT FLOWER

"My Papa is an angel now,"

The little maiden said.

We noted her untroubled brow, Her gayly nodding head, And then, of course, we wondered how She could have been misled.

We felt that she was wrong, and yet We spoke in accents low, For life with perils is beset, And friends oft quickly go.

But she was right; he'd gone in debt To "back" a burlesque show.

[Footnote 3: Lippincott's Magazine.]