Susan Clegg and Her Friend Mrs. Lathrop Part 5

_then_ it come out 't after all what she come for was to borrow my clo'es-wringer! Well, Mrs. Lathrop, I certainly didn't have no blame f'r myself at feelin' some tempered under them circ.u.mstances,--me _so_ sympathetic--'n' the tea--'n' all."

Mrs. Lathrop shook her head in calm and appreciative understanding.

"Did you lend--" she asked.

"--'N' there are folks just like that in this world too," Susan continued, "'n' it beats me what the Lord makes 'em so for, for they'll talk 'n' talk 'n' wander all over every subjeck in Creation to come 'n' never even begin to get around to the point till you're clean gi'n out with listenin'. 'F the minister's wife hadn't come that day 'n' hadn't talked as she did, I might 'a' been left less wore out and, as a consequence, have told you that night what I ain't never told you yet, for it was strong in my mind then 'n' it's strong in my mind now, 'n' bein' one o' them 's wastes no words, I'll state to you at once, Mrs. Lathrop, 't before Mrs. Sh.o.r.es run away--'n' after she run away too, f'r that matter--I was thinkin' very seriously o' adoptin' a baby."

"A--" said Mrs. Lathrop, opening her eyes somewhat.

"A baby," repeated Susan. "I feel you ought to be the first one to know it because, 's much 's I'm out, you'll naturally have the care of it the most of the time."

Mrs. Lathrop clawed feebly among her pieces and seemed somewhat bewildered as she clawed.

"Mrs. Sh.o.r.es' ba--" she queried.

Susan screamed.

"_Mrs. Lathrop!_"--she stopped knitting so that she might concentrate her entire strength into the extreme astonishment which she desired to render manifest in those two words--"Mrs. Lathrop!--Me!--adopt Mrs.

Sh.o.r.es' baby! Adopt the baby of a woman as 'd gone off 'n' left it!"

Mrs. Lathrop looked deeply apologetic.

"I didn't know--" she ventured.

"Well, you'd ought to of," said Susan, "'n' if you didn't I'd never own to it. Such a idea never entered my head, 'n' I can't conceive when nor how it entered yours. Only I'm free to confess to one thing, Mrs. Lathrop, 'n' that is 't 'f _I_ was give to havin' ideas 's senseless 's yours often are, I'd certainly keep my mouth shut 'n' let people 's knows more do the talkin'."

Mrs. Lathrop swallowed the rebuke and remained pa.s.sively overcome by the after-clap of her astonishment.

Susan began to knit again.

"I wasn't thinkin' o' Mrs. Sh.o.r.es' baby 'n' I wasn't thinkin' o' no baby in particular. I never said I was thinkin' of any baby--I said I was thinkin' of _a_ baby. I sh'd think you could 'a' seen the difference, but even if you can't see it there is a difference just the same. My sakes alive! it's a serious enough matter decidin' to adopt some one for good 'n' all without hurryin' the doin' of it any.

If you was 's rich 's I be, Mrs. Lathrop, you'd understand that better. 'N' if you was 's rich 's I be, you might not be in no more of a hurry 'n I am. I ain't in a hurry a _tall_. I ain't in a hurry 'n' I don't mean to be in a hurry. I'm only jus' a-gettin' on towards makin'

up my mind."

Mrs. Lathrop slowly and meditatively drew a piece of sky-blue farmer's satin from her bag and looked at it absent-mindedly. Susan twirled her stocking and went on.

"'S long 's I've begun I may 's well make a clean breast of the whole now. O' course you don't know nothin', Mrs. Lathrop, but, to put the whole thing in a sh.e.l.l, this adoptin' of a child 's a good deal to consider. When a woman 's married, it's the Lord's will 'n' out o' the Bible 'n' to be took without no murmurin' 's to your own feelin's in the matter. Every one 's sorry for married people, no matter how their children turn out, because, good or bad, like enough they done their best, 'n' if they didn't it was always the other one's fault; but there ain't no one goin' to lay themselves out to try 'n' smooth my child's thorns into a bed o' roses for me. Every one 's jus' goin' to up 'n' blame me right 'n' left, 'n' if it has a pug-nose or turns out bad I can't shoulder none of it onto the Lord, I'll jus' have the whole c'mmunity sayin' I've got myself 'n' no one else to thank. Now, when you know f'r sure 't you can't blame n.o.body else but jus'

yourself, you go pretty slow, 'n' for that very reason I'm thinkin'

this subjeck well over afore I decide. There's a good many questions to consider,--my mind 's got to be made up whether boy or girl 'n' age 'n' so forth afore I shall open my lips to a livin' soul."

Mrs. Lathrop appeared to be slowly recovering from the effects of her surprise.

"Would you take a small--" she asked, perhaps with some mental reference to the remark that dowered her with the occasional charge of the future adopted Clegg.

"Well, I d'n' know. That's a very hard thing that comes up first of all every time 't I begin thinkin'. When most folks set out to adopt a baby, the main idea seems to be to try 'n' get 'em so young 't they can't never say for sure's you ain't their mother."

Mrs. Lathrop nodded approval, mute but emphatic, of the wisdom of her friend's views.

"But I ain't got none o' that foolish sort o' notions in me. I wouldn't be its mother, 'n' 'f there was n't no one else to tell it so Mr. Kimball 'd rejoice to the first time I sent it down town alone.

It's nigh to impossible to keep nothin' in the town with Mr. Kimball.

A man f'rever talkin' like that 's bound to tell everythin' sooner or later, 'n' I never was one to set any great store o' faith on a talker. When I don't want the whole town to know 't I'm layin' in rat-poison I buy of Sh.o.r.es, 'n' when I get a new dress I buy o'

Kimball. I don't want my rats talked about 'n' I don't mind my dress.

For which same reason I sh'll make no try 't foolin' my baby. I'll be content if it cooes. I remember Mrs. Macy's sayin' once 't a baby was sweetest when it cooes, 'n' I don't want to miss nothin', 'n' we ain't never kep' doves for me to be dead-sick o' the noise, so I want the cooin' age. I think it'll be pleasant comin' home days to hear the baby cooin', 'n' 'f it cooes too loud when I'm away you c'n always come over 'n' see if it's rolled anywhere. I c'n see that, generally speaking, it's a wise thing that folks jus' have to take 'em as they come, because when it's all for you to choose you want so much 't like 's not I can't be suited after all. It's goin' to be pretty hard decidin', 'n' when I've done decidin' it's goin' to be pretty hard findin' a baby that's all 't I've decided; 'n' then, _if_ I find it,--then comes the raisin' of it, 'n' I espect that 'll be suthin'

jus' awful."

"How was you goin' to find--" Mrs. Lathrop asked.

"Well, I've got to go to town to look at winter coats, 'n' I thought 't when I'd found what I wanted I'd jus' glance through two or three orphan asylums afore comin' home."

Mrs. Lathrop pinned the purple to the yellow and shut one eye so as to judge of the combination from the single standpoint of the other. She seemed to be gradually regaining her normal state of abnormal calmness.

"I thought 't your coat was pretty good," she said mildly, as Susan altered her needles. The stocking started violently.

"Pretty good! It's most new. My heavens alive, Mrs. Lathrop, don't you know 's well 's I do 't I ain't had my new coat but four years 'n'

then only to church!"

"You _said_ 't you was goin' to get--" Mrs. Lathrop remarked, unpinning the purple as she spoke and replacing it in the bag.

"_Mrs. Lathrop_! 'f you don't beat anythin' 't I ever saw for puttin'

words 't I never even dreamed of into other folks's mouths! 'S if I should ever think o' buyin' a new coat 'n' the price-tag not even dirty on the inside o' mine yet! I never said 't I was goin' to buy a coat,--I never thought o' goin' to buy a coat,--what I did say was 't I was goin' to _look at_ coats, an' the reason 't I'm goin' to look at coats is because I'm goin' to cut over the sleeves o' mine. I thought all last winter 't it was pretty queer for a woman 's rich 's I be to wear old-fashioned sleeves--more particularly so where I c'n easy cut a new sleeve crossways out o' the puffs o' the old ones. 'N' _that's_ why I want to look at coats, Mrs. Lathrop, for I ain't in the habit o'

settin' my shears in where I can't see my way out."

Mrs. Lathrop fingered a piece of rusty black silk and made no comment.

"When I get done lookin' at coats, lookin' 't orphans 'll be jus' a nice change. If I see any 't I think might suit I'll take their numbers 'n' come home 'n' see about decidin', 'n' if I don't see any 't I like I'll come home jus' the same."

The clock struck nine. Mrs. Lathrop rose and gathered up her bag of pieces.

"I mus' be goin' home," she said.

"I was thinkin' that very same thing," said Susan, rising also. "It's our thinkin' so much the same't keeps us friends, I guess."

Mrs. Lathrop sought her shawl and departed.

It was about a week later that the trip to town took place. The day was chosen to suit the opening of a most unprecedented Fire-Sale. Miss Clegg thought that the latest styles in coat-sleeves were likely to bloom broadcast on so auspicious an occasion, and Mrs. Lathrop herself was sufficiently infected by the advertising in the papers to dare to intrust her friend with the whole of a two-dollar bill to be judiciously invested if bargains should really run as wildly rife as was predicted.

Susan departed very early and did not get back till very late--so late in fact that her next-door neighbor had the time to become more than a little anxious as to the possibilities of some mischance having befallen her two-dollar bill.

But towards eight o'clock signs of life next door appeared to the anxious watcher in the Lathrop kitchen window, and one minute later she was on her way across. She found the front door, which was commonly open, to be uncommonly shut, and was forced to rap loudly and wait lengthily ere the survivor of the Fire-Sale came to let her in.

Then when the door did open the figure which appeared in the opening was such as to startle even the phlegmatically disposed chewer of clover.

"My heavens alive, Susan, whatever is the matter with--"

Susan backed faintly into the hall so as to allow the other to enter.

"I'm worn to a frazzle--that's all!" she said weakly and wearily.