Polly's Business Venture Part 9

The woman went to the large storeroom off the kitchen and counted out a dozen eggs in a box. When she came back she held them in one hand while waiting for payment, with outstretched other hand.

"That's a fine sofa you've got in the next room," remarked Mrs. Fabian, pretending not to notice the open palm.

"Yeh, d'ye know, I paid fifteen dollars jus' fer that red plush alone?"

declared she, going to the door and turning to invite her visitors to come in. The box of eggs was forgotten for the time.

The girls followed Mrs. Fabian to the best room that opened from the large kitchen, and to their horror they saw that the sofa referred to was a hideous Victorian affair of walnut frame upholstered in awful red mohair plush.

But Mrs. Fabian made the most of her optics the moment she got inside the room. Thus it happened that she spied a few little ornaments on the old mantel-shelf.

"What old-fashioned gla.s.s candle-sticks," said she, going over to look at the white-gla.s.s holders with pewter sockets.

"Ain't they awful! I've told Abe, many a time, that I'd throw them out, some day, and get a real nice bankit lamp fer the center table," returned the hostess.

"And won't he throw them away?" asked Mrs. Fabian, guilelessly.

"He says, why should we waste 'em, when they comes in so handy, in winter, to carry down cellar fer apples. He likes 'em cuz he onny paid a quarter fer 'em an' a gla.s.s pitcher, at an auction, some miles up the road. But that wuz so long ago we've got our money's wuth outen them. Now I wants a bra.s.s lamp an' he says I'm gettin' scandalous in my old age--awastin' money on flim-flams fer the settin' room. He says lamps is fer parlor use."

Her repressed aspirations in furnishings made the woman pity herself, but Mrs. Fabian took advantage of the situation.

"I've needed a pair of candle-sticks for some time, and I'll exchange a lamp for your auction bargain which you say has paid for itself, by this time."

"What! Don't you want your lamp?" exclaimed the lady, aghast at such a statement.

"Well, I have no further use for one, and it would look lovely on your marble-top table," returned Mrs. Fabian.

"Well, well! How long will it take you to get it from home?" asked the woman, anxiously.

"If you really wish to get rid of the candle-sticks and jug, I'll leave the quarter you paid originally for them and go for the lamp at once.

Maybe I can be back in an hour's time. I'll pay for the eggs, too, and leave them until I come back," explained Mrs. Fabian, graciously.

Without wasting an extra word or any precious time, the owner of the rare old candle-sticks wrapped them in a bit of newspaper and went for the gla.s.s pitcher. Mrs. Fabian had no idea of the extra item being worth anything, but she included it, more for fun, than anything else. But once they saw the tiny gla.s.s jug with Sheffield grape-design on its sides, they all realized that here was a wonderful "find."

Mrs. Fabian seemed uneasy until she had the paper package in her hand and had paid the twenty-five cents for the three pieces of gla.s.sware. Then Eleanor made a suggestion.

"Why couldn't we wait here, Mrs. Fabian, and look at some of the old china the lady has in this cupboard, while you go for the lamp. There's no sense in all of us going with you."

"That's a good plan, if Mrs.----" Nancy waited for the lady to mention her name.

"I'm Mrs. Tomlinson," said she, politely.

"If Mrs. Tomlinson is not too busy to show us her dear old house," added Nancy.

"All right, girls. Is that satisfactory?" asked Mrs. Fabian. "How does it appeal to you, Mrs. Tomlinson?"

"Oh, now that that bread is risin', I've got time to burn," declared the lady, independently.

"All right. We'll visit here while you get the lamp," agreed the girls, deeply concerned to know where their chaperone would find a lamp such as Mrs. Tomlinson craved.

Mrs. Fabian left, and invited the child swinging on the gate to drive with her as far as Stamford. The little girl, pleased at the opportunity, ran for her bonnet and told her ma of the wonderful invitation.

Mrs. Tomlinson signified her consent to Sarah's going, and then gave her full attention to showing her company the house. "You musn't look at the dirt everywhere, ladies," began she, waving a hand at the immaculate corners and primly-ordered furniture.

"Now come and see my parlor, girls. I'm proud of that room, but we onny use it Sundays, when Sarah plays the melodian and we sings hymns. Now an'

then some neighbors come in evenin's, fer a quiltin'-bee in winter; and I uses it fer a minister's call, but there ain't no way to het the room an'

it's all-fired cold fer visitin'."

Polly thought of the ranch-house at Pebbly Pit as Mrs. Tomlinson described the cold winter evenings, and she smiled at the remembrance of how she used to undress in the kitchen beside the roaring range-fire, and then rush breathlessly into her cold little room to jump between the blankets and roll up in them to sleep.

Eleanor laughed outright at the picture of a visiting dominie sitting on the edge of a chair with his toes slowly freezing, while his parishioners tried in quaking tones and with teeth chattering to entertain him.

But Mrs. Tomlinson paid no heed to their laughter, for she was in her glory. "Ain't this some room?" demanded she, pulling the shades up to give enough light to admire the place.

A stained cherry parlor suite of five pieces upholstered in cheap satin damask, with a what-not in one corner, and an easel holding a crayon portrait of Abe and his bride at the time of their wedding, in the other corner, graced this best room. A few cheap chromos flared against the gorgeous-patterned wall-paper, and a mantel-shelf was crowded with all sorts of nick-nacks and ornaments. Polly seemed drawn to this shelf, the first thing, while the other girls glanced around the parlor and felt like laughing.

"Won't you sit down, a minute?" invited the hostess, but her tone suggested fear lest they soil the damask with their dust-coats.

Polly had made a discovery in that moment she had to look over the motley collection on the shelf.

"This is a nice tray you have standing against the wall," said she, using Mrs. Fabian's tactics to interest the hostess.

"Yes, that's another auction bargain. When Abe fust got it, the day I went fer that oak side-board, I got mad. But I've used it a lot sence then, fer lemonade and cookies, when comp'ny comes to visit all afternoon. And I feels made up, _I kin_ tell you, when I brings that tray in like all society does." Mrs. Tomlinson chuckled to herself.

Polly examined the tray and believed it a rare one. It was oval in shape, and had a stencilled rim in a conventional design. The coloring was exquisite, and the central design was a wonderful basket over-flowing with gorgeous fruit. The touches of gold on the decorations was the beauty-point of the unusual object.

"I've always wanted just such a tray, too. I wonder if you know anyone who has one and will sell it to me. I'd drive a long ways to go to an auction such as you say you attended, when you bought this tray," said Polly, trying to act indifferent.

"Laws-ee, Miss! I see'd trays sold at mos' every country auction I goes to. I'd jes' as soon sell that one to you, if you like it, but maybe you'd think I was askin' too much if I was to tack on the cost of time I lost that day. I never got a chanst to bid on the oak side-board, 'cause a city man felt so mad at Abe fer buyin' the tray, that he run up the side-board out of spite, when he found we wanted it. Ef he'd onny a said he wanted the old tray he'd cud have had it an' welcome. But he never told us. The neighbor who finally got the side-board laffed an' told Abe why the man did the trick. The man told him he'd double-crossed us that way."

Polly would have offered the woman the full value of the fine stencilled tray, but Eleanor hurriedly spoke for her.

"How much was the tray with the cost of time tacked on?"

"Well, it won't be fair to charge _all_ afternoon, 'cuz I had a good time with my neighbors what met at that vendue. But Abe lost three hours' work on the corn that day and that is wuth sixty cents an 'nour, anyway. Tack that on to thirty-five cents fer the tray, an' you've got it."

Mrs. Tomlinson started counting laboriously on her fingers and ultimately reached the same total as the girls had found five minutes before. So Polly paid over the munificent sum to the lady's delight, and took possession of the tray.

"Ef I onny had some other old things you'd like to get, I would almost have enough money to buy a swell gla.s.s lemonade set I saw down to Stamford one day. It had a gla.s.s tray under it and a dozen painted gla.s.ses and a fine gla.s.s pitcher--all fer two ninety-eight."

Almost before the lady had ended her words of her secret ambition, the four girls had pounced upon various things found on the shelf. Eleanor had an old gla.s.s toddy-mug with a lid, which was used for a match-holder in the parlor.

Nancy selected a small oil lamp with a bra.s.s base and stem, and a lovely-shaped gla.s.s shade. Mrs. Tomlinson informed her it was another auction bargain that cost fifty cents. Being so expensive they put it on the parlor mantel instead of using it.

Dodo yearned to possess an old afghan she saw on the settee of the suite of furniture, but she feared to say so. Finally she summoned courage enough to offer the lady a price for it that caused Mrs. Tomlinson a failure about the heart.

"My goodness' sakes alive! That's ten times more'n the wool ever cost when the thing was _new_. Take it! Take it, quick, ef you really mean it!"

The girls laughed wildly, for Dodo took it quickly and paid the price offered to the consternation of the sales-woman. "Well," gasped she, at last, "you must have some family-past what has to do with knitted covers, is all I can say to explain you!"