Polly of Pebbly Pit Part 13

"Then another thing I want you to do, Polly, is that you call me 'Anne.' I am to be with you as one of the family all this summer, and the 'Miss' is too formal for members in the same family. I want to ask this favor of your mother and father too. If you were to use Eleanor's and Barbara's first names for them as I do, I think they would feel more at home."

"Oh, Miss--I mean Anne, I will love to call you that, but I never _could_ have courage enough to call that proud girl by the name of 'Bob'!" declared Polly.

Anne laughed and patted her apt pupil on the head, then she said, "Shall we go in search of your mother and ask about the breakfast table?"

Polly jumped up and led the way to the kitchen door where Sary was hard at work.

"Sary, can you tell us where my mother is?" asked Polly.

"Your maw's just went to th' b.u.t.tery to skim the milk," said she, giving Polly an opportunity to compare the two terms.

As the two girls went toward the b.u.t.tery, Polly admitted: "Anne, it does make a difference, I think."

Anne nodded brightly and opened the creamery-door. Mrs. Brewster stood with skimmer in hand, taking the rich cream from the pans of milk. She looked up with a welcoming smile as the two girls came in.

"Mother, Anne's been giving me 'first aid' in manners," laughed Polly, watching her mother's expression keenly.

"In which line, dear; there are several you can improve in," rejoined Mrs. Brewster, with a loving little laugh.

"Didn't you hear me? I have improved upon your name."

"I noticed it, but I wanted to make sure it was intentional and not a mistake."

"Tell me--do you like it?" asked Polly, eagerly.

"Indeed I do, dear; I never could abide that name of 'Maw' and 'Paw'

that is common with the ranchers."

"Then why didn't you tell me this long ago! Oh, mother!"

"If I corrected you, and the other children at school heard you use different terms from those they were accustomed to, they would think you 'proud' and 'too good for a rancher.' I have heard that criticism so often, that I have given up trying to better conditions or express my own desires in anything that an illiterate and inexperienced neighbor may find fault with. I just accept things as they are, now, but hope for better things for my children."

This was a new light on her mother, and Polly felt subdued by it. She wondered if her mother would have been any different if she had been in Mrs. Maynard's place.

"You see," continued Mrs. Brewster, turning to Anne, "one so gets to dread the free speech and narrow-minded opinions of some ranchers that one forbears in _everything_, rather than have strife and ill-will from those one must meet at times."

Anne nodded. "But sometimes it is better to take the risk of offending the whole community if one finally wins out."

Mrs. Brewster looked approvingly at the girl, and Polly changed the conversation by saying:

"Mother, Anne and I have a plan that will surprise you."

Mrs. Brewster smiled encouragingly for the girls to speak.

"It's just this: we think it will be lovely to move the table out under the trees. There the air and view can be enjoyed and afford us ample subjects for conversation," explained Anne.

"Anne, splendid! After my experience of last night I would hail any change. But this is really good. I never thought of it myself," replied Mrs. Brewster, with relief.

On their walk to the kitchen, they planned to remove the table and chairs; then Mrs. Brewster added: "My husband breakfasted an hour ago but said he would be back when we sat down for coffee. He enjoys a second cup at his leisure. And I'm quite sure Sary gave Jeb his breakfast after I left the kitchen, so that gives us a clear start for the first meal to-day."

Sary was found upon her knees before the kitchen range, polishing the nickel name-plate on the oven door. A dish-pan of hot water and a scrubbing brush stood upon the floor beside her. As Mrs. Brewster came in, Sary glanced up impatiently.

"Ah de'clar t' goodness! Ah wish you-all'd eat that brekfus an' vamoose outen my way. Ah hes t' scrub this hull floor soon ez th' stove's shined!"

"That's exactly why I came in, Sary--to get breakfast out of your way,"

returned Mrs. Brewster, sending a swift glance at Polly and Anne.

As Sary's words made way for their work, all fell to with a vim. Polly and Anne carried dishes and chairs out of the room, while Mrs. Brewster whisked off the cloth and asked the maid to help her carry the table out under the trees.

No reply came from Sary, and the mistress turned to see why she did not come to a.s.sist. The ludicrous expression on the widow's face, as she sat bolt upright with her blackened hands raised heavenward in silent protest, made Mrs. Brewster laugh.

"What's the matter, Sary?"

"Yore a clar case o' bein' locoed!" gasped the help.

"Not at all, but you want to scrub the floor, don't you?"

"Ah don't need th' furnishin's taken out fer that!"

"But we want to eat, you see, and under the trees we'll be quite out of your way. Here, Anne, help me with the table, will you, please?" said Mrs. Brewster, with finality.

The table was firmly placed under the trees and the cloth relaid. Then the willowware dishes and old Tuttle silver were arranged by Anne, while Polly watched eagerly.

"I do believe those old blue dishes look ten times as nice out here as in the kitchen!" declared Polly, while Anne placed a few wild flowers on the center of the table.

"Merely the effect of your mental testimony, Polly. In the kitchen, with steam, working utensils, and crowed sense of room, everything takes on a sordid look and feeling. But out in G.o.d's sunshine and fresh air, everything looks and feels better. That is why sun and air are the best physician for any ill," explained Anne.

Mrs. Brewster heard, and watched Anne with a bright smile, as the sentiment of the words were exactly what she ofttimes thought. When the three returned to the kitchen to take the biscuits and other breakfast food out, Sary stood with head thrown back and body rocking back and forth as she laughed immoderately.

"Do tell, Mis' Brewster! You-all bean't goin' t' _eat_ out thar, now be yuh?"

"Why, of course!" retorted Polly.

"Why shouldn't we?" asked Mrs. Brewster.

Sary could not explain, so she turned to the stove while mumbling to herself the doubts she had over the sanity of the women-folks of this queer family--excepting herself of course!

Anne had gone to the guest-room to call the girls, and to her relief, found them both dressed and ready for breakfast.

"It's a lovely morning," said she, in greeting to them.

"Yes, I've been sniffing the sweetness at the open window," replied Eleanor, but Barbara stood unresponsive.

Anne noticed the simple-looking house-frocks they wore, and felt relieved at the simplicity of color and lines, although she knew that the name-tag inside of those dresses spoke silently of their cost.

"We're going to breakfast out on the lawn--it is perfectly charming there," explained Anne, leading the way from the living-room by way of the front door in order to avoid Sary and her scrub-pail.

But Sary had been anxiously peeping from the crack of the kitchen door, and felt mortally offended when the company went out by the front way.