Carroll Watson Rankin

“ Mabel hated to be laughed at.
"I can rhyme," cried Mabel, springing to her feet and giving vent to all her grievances at once. "My table manners are good. I'm not fat. I've got just as much waist as you have."
"You've got more," shrieked delighted Laura.
Faithless Marjory, struck by this indubitable truth, laughed outright.
"You—you can't make Indian-bead chains," sputtered Mabel, trying hard to find something crushing to say. "You can't make pan-cakes. You can't drive nails." ”

“ Black, placing his forefinger against his own broad chest, "is going to ask this one (he pointed to Mrs. Crane) to come and live with him in his own great big empty house, so he'll have a sister again to sew on his buttons, listen to his old stories and make a home for him. What do you say, Sarah?"
"I say yes," said Mrs. Crane; "yes, with all my heart."
"And here," said Mr. Black, smiling into four pairs of sympathetic eyes, "are four young people who will have to pretend that they truly belong to us once in awhile, because we'd both like to have our house full of happy little girls. ”

“ Bettie paused to look inquiringly at Jean, who, framed by the dining room doorway, was nodding her head vigorously.
"Perhaps Jean does," finished Bettie.
"Are you very particular," asked Jean, coming forward, "about what kind of a room it is?"
"Why, not so very," returned the guest. "I'm afraid I couldn't afford a very grand one."
"Are you very timid?" asked Bettie, who had suddenly guessed what Jean had in mind. "I mean are you afraid of burglars and mice and things like that?"
"Why, most persons are, I imagine," said the young woman, whose eyes were twinkling pleasantly. ”

“ Crane was doing.
"If she were a little, thin, active old lady, with bobbing white curls like Grandma Pike," said Jean, "lots of people would have a corner for her; but poor Mrs. Crane takes up so much room and is so heavy and slow that she's going to be hard to take care of when she gets old. Oh why couldn't she have had just one strong, kind son to take care of her?"
"When I'm married," offered Mabel, generously, "I'll take her to live with me. I won't have any husband if he doesn't promise to take Mrs. Crane, too." ”

“ Although the number of weeds was not greatly decreased, the yard looked as if, indeed, a battle had been fought there. Mr. Black, passing by on his way to town, began to wonder if he had been quite wise in turning it over to the girls.
At four o'clock the following morning, sleepy Bettie tumbled out of bed and into her clothes. Then she slipped quietly downstairs, out of doors, through the convenient hole in the back fence and into the cottage yard. She had been digging for more than an hour when Jean, rubbing a pair of sleepy eyes, put in her appearance. ”

“ Jean and Bettie cried silently but bitterly. Marjory wept audibly, with long, shuddering sobs; but Mabel simply bawled. Mabel always did her crying on the excellent principle that, if a thing were worth doing at all, it was worth doing well. She was doing it so well on this occasion that Jean, who seldom cried and whose puffed, scarlet eyelids contrasted oddly and rather pathetically with her colorless cheeks, presently sat up to remonstrate. ”

“ But dear me, it is such fun to cook our own meals on that dear little box-stove, even if most of the things do taste pretty awful."
"I wish," said Mabel, mournfully, "that somebody would give us a hen, so we could make omelets."
"Who ever made omelets out of a hen?" asked Jean, laughing.
"I meant out of the eggs, of course," said Mabel, with dignity. "Hens lay eggs, don't they? If we count on five or six eggs a day——"
"The goose that laid the golden egg laid only one a day," said Marjory. "It seems to me that six is a good many." ”

“ Jean had laid the open letter on the table. Marjory and Bettie with their arms tightly locked, as if both felt the need of support, re-read the closely written page in silence When they reached the end, they pushed it toward Mabel.
"What does it mean in plain English?" asked Mabel, hoping that both her eyes and her ears had deceived her.
"That somebody else is to have the cottage," said Jean, "and that in the meantime we're to move." ”

“ Mother says we must be polite to her, but I don't believe mother knows just what a queer girl she is—you see she's always as quiet as can be when there are grown people around."
"Yes," agreed Mabel, "her company manners are so much properer than mine that mother says she wishes I were more like her."
"Well," said Marjory, uncompromisingly, "I'm mighty glad you're not. Your manners aren't particularly good but you haven't two sets. I think Laura's the most disagreeable girl I ever knew. Just as she fools you into almost liking her she turns around and scratches you." ”

“ Perhaps the prospect of a good dinner after a long siege of poor ones was too much for her, for ordinarily, Mrs. Crane was a very cheerful woman.
Although both guests declared that the soup was very good indeed, neither seemed to really enjoy it.
"They just kind of worried a little of it down," said distressed Marjory, when she handed Mr. Black's plate, still three quarters full to Jean, in the kitchen. "Do you suppose there's anything the matter with it?"
"There can't be," said Bettie. "I've tasted it and it's good."
"They're just saving room for the other things," comforted Mabel. ”

“ What have you found, Jean?"
"Just a pantry," said Jean, holding up a pair of black hands, "and lots of dust. There isn't a clean spot in the house."
"So much the better," said Bettie, whose clouds always had a silver lining. "We'll have just that much more fun cleaning up. I'll tell you what let's do—and we've all day to-morrow to do it in. We'll just regularly clean house—I've always wanted to clean house."
"Me too," cried Mabel, enthusiastically. ”

“ Mapes. "I think somebody is calling Bettie."
"Oh my!" said Bettie, springing to her feet, "this is bath night and I promised to bathe the twins. I must go this minute."
"I think Bettie is sweet," said Jean. "Mr. Black would never have given us the cottage if he hadn't been so fond of Bettie; but she doesn't put on any airs at all. She makes us feel as if it belonged to all of us."
"Bettie is a sweet little girl," said Mrs. Mapes, "but she's far too energetic for such a little body. You mustn't let her do all the work."
"Oh, we don't!" exclaimed Mabel, grandly. ”

“ The Odd Behaviour Of The Grown-ups
EVEN with all its ingenious but inexpensive improvements, the renovated cottage would probably have failed to satisfy a genuine rent-paying family, but to the contented girls, it seemed absolutely perfect.
It looked, at last, to everybody as if the long deferred dinner party were actually to take place. There, in readiness, were the girls, the money, the cottage and Mr. Black, and nothing had happened to Mrs. Bartholomew Crane, who might easily, as Mabel suggested harrowingly, have moved away or died at any moment during the summer. ”

“ Conscientious Bettie went around the yard a dozen times, but however hard she might search, not a single remaining weed could she discover.
"Good work," said Jean, balancing her empty basket on her head.
"It seems too good to be true," said Bettie, "but think of it, girls, the rent is paid! It's most time for Mr. Black to go by. Let's watch for him from the doorstep—our own precious doorstep."
"It needs scrubbing," said Mabel. "Besides, it isn't ours, yet. Perhaps Mr. Black has changed his mind. Some grown-up folks have awfully changeable minds." ”

“ When Bettie had unlocked the door—she had slept all night with the key in her hand to make certain that it would not escape—the girls filed in.
"I know how to handle a broom as well as anybody," said Mabel, giving a mighty sweep and raising such a cloud of dust that the four housecleaners were obliged to flee out of doors to keep from strangling.
"Phew!" said Jean, when she had stopped coughing. "I guess we'll have to take it out with a shovel. The dust must be an inch thick."
"Wait," cried Marjory, darting off, "I'll get Aunty's sprinkling can; then the stuff won't fly so." ”

“ Crane, pleasantly, "that you'll be very neighbourly and come over to see me whenever you feel like it, for I'm always alone."
"Thank you," said Jean, speaking for the household. "We'd just love to."
"Haven't you any children?" asked Bettie, sympathetically.
"Not one," replied Mrs. Crane. "I've never had any but I've always loved children."
"But I'm sure you have a lot of grandchildren," said Mabel, consolingly. "You look so nice and grandmothery." ”

“ Don't you think a million would last all day?"
"I should think it might," said Mrs. Crane, somewhat comforted. "I haven't quite a million, but if Marjory will get my cushion and a spool of cotton I'll be very glad to have you thread all I have."
The girls worked in silence for fully five minutes. Then Mabel jabbed the solitary needle she had threaded into the sawdust cushion and said:
"Don't you suppose Mr. Downing might let us have the cottage now, if we went to him? Nobody else seems to care about it. What do you think, Mrs. Crane?" ”

“ Mapes had given them materials for a simple cake and Jean and Bettie were in the kitchen making it. Marjory, singing as she worked, was running her Aunty Jane's carpet-sweeper noisily over the parlor rug, while Mabel, whistling an accompaniment to Marjory's song, was dusting the sideboard; at all times the cottage furniture received so much unnecessary dusting that it would not have been at all surprising if it had worn thin in spots.
When the doorbell rang suddenly and sharply, Marjory's tune stopped short, high in air, and Mabel ran to the window.
"It's a man," announced Mabel. ”