The Corner House Girls Part 21

"I know," sighed Agnes. "But Mrs. Kranz was so funny! To hear her say she did not like foreigners, when she can scarcely speak English herself."

"You might be a foreigner yourself, Ag, as far as speaking correctly goes," laughed Ruth. "You're awfully slangy. And Mrs. Kranz has lived in this country for many, many years. She happens to be one of those unfortunate Germans who can never master English. But I know she has a kind heart."

"She's dead sore on Joe Maroni and his tribe, just the same," declared Agnes, proving the truth of her sister's accusation as to her slanginess.

The two older Kenways walked the next afternoon across town to Meadow Street. It was in the poorer section of Milton, near the silk mills.

Although the houses were not so tall, and were mostly frame buildings, the street reminded Ruth and Agnes of Ess.e.x Street, in Bloomingsburg, where they had resided before coming to the old Corner House.

Mrs. Kranz had given them her number; and it was not hard to find the three-story, brick-front building in which she kept store. Mrs. Kranz hired the entire street floor, living in rooms at the back. There were tenements above, with a narrow hall and stairway leading to them at one side. The cellar was divided, half being used by Mrs. Kranz for a store-room.

The other half was the dwelling and store of the Italian, Joe Maroni, whose name was painted crookedly on a small sign, and under it his goods were enumerated as

ISE COLE WOOD VGERTABLS

Joe himself was in evidence as the girls came to the place. He was a little, active, curly haired man, in velveteen clothing and cap, gold rings in his ears, and a fierce mustache.

"A regular brigand," whispered Agnes, rather shrinking from his vicinity and clinging to Ruth's hand.

"I'm sure he's a reformed brigand," Ruth laughed.

The girls' own nostrils informed them that part of Mrs. Kranz's complaint must be true, for there was a tall basket beside the vegetable and fruit stand into which Joe had thrown decayed vegetable leaves and fruit. It was a very warm day and the odor certainly was offensive.

Joe came forward smiling, as the girls stopped at the stand. "Want-a da orange-da pear-da banan'?" he asked, in a most agreeable way.

Agnes immediately reversed her opinion and declared he was actually _handsome_.

"Nice-a vegetables," said Joe, eager to display his wares. "All fre-esh."

Ruth took her courage in both hands and smiled at him in return. "We haven't come to buy anything this afternoon, Mr. Maroni," she said.

"You see, our Uncle Peter gave us this house when he died. Our name is Kenway. We have come to see you--"

"Si! Si!" cried the Italian, understanding them at once. "You da litla Padrona wot own all dese," with a wave of his hand that was both graceful and explanatory. "Me, Joe, me hear-a 'bout de litla Padrona.

Grazias!" and he bowed and lifted his cap.

The children had appeared from the cool depths of the cellar as if by magic. They _were_ like a flight of steps in height, and the oldest was a very pretty girl, possibly as old as Agnes, but much smaller.

Joe turned swiftly to this one and said something in his own tongue, nothing of which did the visitors understand save the child's name, "Maria."

Maria darted down the steps again, and immediately Joe fished out a basket from under the stand and proceeded to fill it with his very choicest fruit.

"For you, Padrona," he explained, bowing to Ruth again. "You mak-a me ver' hap' to come see me. Grazias!"

"Oh, but Mr. Maroni!" cried Ruth, rather nervously. "You must not give us all that nice fruit. And we did not come just to call. Some-some of the other tenants have complained about you."

The man looked puzzled, and then troubled. "What is that 'complain'?"

he asked. "They no lik-a me? They no lik-a my wife? They no lik-a my chil'ren?"

"Oh, no! nothing like that," Ruth said, sympathetically. "They only say you do not keep the stand clean. See! that basket of rotting vegetables and fruit. You should get rid of it at once. Don't the collectors come through this part of the town for garbage?"

"Si! Si!" cried Joe, shrugging his shoulders. "But sometimes come first my poor compatriots-si? They find da orange with da speck; dey fin' potato part good-a-see?" All the time he was showing them the specked vegetables and fruit in the basket. Although his hands were grimed, Ruth noticed that he was otherwise clean. The children, though dirty and ragged, were really beautiful.

"W'en da poor peep' go, then I put out-a da basket for da cart,"

pursued Joe, still smiling and still gesturing.

Up the steps at that moment came a smiling, broad Italian woman, with a gay clean bandanna over her glossy black hair. She was a pretty woman, too, with the same features as little Maria.

"Good-a day! good-a day!" she said, bobbing and courtesying. Then she added something in Italian which was a friendly greeting.

Joe smiled on her dazzlingly. She wore heavier earrings than Joe and a great gilt brooch to hold the neck of her gown together.

"She no spe'k da English mooch," explained the man. "But da keeds--Oh! dey learn to spe'k fine in da school. We been in dis country six year-no? We come here fi' year ago. We doin' fine!"

explained Joe, with enthusiasm.

Agnes was already hugging one of the toddlers, and trying to find a clean spot on his pretty face that she could kiss. "Aren't they little darlings?" she said to Ruth.

The older girl agreed with her, but she was having difficulty herself in forming the request she wished to make to the Italian. Finally she said:

"Joe, you must let the city men take away your spoiled fruit every morning. You can pick it over yourself and save what you think your poor friends would like. Although, it is very bad to eat decayed fruit and vegetables. Bad for the health, you know."

"Si! Si!" exclaimed Joe, smiling right along. "I understand. It shall be as da litla Padrona command. Eh?"

"And let me go down into the cellar, Joe. For your own sake-for your children's health, you know-you must keep everything clean."

The woman spoke quickly and with energy. Joe nodded a great deal. "Si!

Si!" he said. "So the good-a doctor say wot come to see da bebe."

"Oh! have you a baby?" cried Agnes, clasping her hands.

The woman smiled at the eager girl and offered her hand to lead Agnes down the broken steps. Ruth followed them. The cellar was damp because of the ice blocks covered with a horseblanket at one side. Beyond the first part.i.tion, in a darker room, there was an old bedstead with ugly looking comforters and pillows without cases. Right down in one corner was an old wooden cradle with the prettiest little black haired baby in the world sleeping in it! At least, so Agnes declared.

Mrs. Maroni was delighted with the girls' evident admiration for the baby. She could tell them by signs and broken words, too, that the baby was now better and the doctor had told her to take it out into the air and suns.h.i.+ne all day. She could trust some of the older children with it; Maria was big enough to help at the stand. _She_ had the housework to do.

The Italian woman led the way to her other apartment-if such it could be called. The rear cellar had two little, high windows looking into a dim little yard. They had no right to the yard. That belonged to the tenants above, and Ruth could see very well that the yard would be the better for a thorough cleaning-up.

"Perhaps Mr. Howbridge will say we have no right to interfere,"

thought the oldest of the Corner House girls. "But I'm just going to tell him what I think of this place."

The cellar was not so dirty, only it was _messy_. The Italians'

possessions were of the cheapest quality, and they had scarcely a decent chair to sit on. Whether it was poverty or a lack of knowledge of better things, Ruth could not decide.

The little Maria came close to her side and smiled at her. "You speak English all right, don't you?" asked Ruth.

"Oh, yes, Ma'am. I go to school," said Maria.

"Do you know the lady who has the store up stairs?"

The little girl's face clouded. "Yes, Ma'am. I guess she's a nice German lady, but she is _so_ cross."

"I do not think she'd be cross with you if she saw you in a clean dress and with your face and hands washed," said Ruth, with a sudden idea. "If you will make yourself tidy, I will take you up stairs with me, and we can call on Mrs. Kranz."

The child's face brightened in a flash. She said something to her mother, who replied in kind. Maria ran behind a curtain that hung in one corner, and just then Joe came down.