The Wide Awake Girls in Winsted Part 9

"O, Dorcas, Dorcas, you would expect people to be all made over. Did you ever read Stevenson's fable of the reformer who thought the first step in reforming the world was to abolish mankind? Let's not worry about it.

I know it's going to be a success. Isn't this room the cleanest spot you ever saw?" And Catherine threw back her arms with a gesture to rest her tired shoulders, and looked about her with affection and pride. Bare white walls, with one good engraving, loaned by Judge Arthur, for ornament; plain shelves with rows of neat books, their orderly labels smiling like sets of teeth; the reading-table in the exact center of the room, with three chairs in military array on each side of it, and a few contributed magazines in mathematical piles between two student lamps; and last, Algernon's small charging desk, with its mysterious cards and rubber stamps under one of the bracket lamps, shining from the polishing Agnes had just given it.

"Isn't it spick and span?" repeated Catherine, sitting down with precision in the arm-chair, discovered in somebody's attic.

"Ye-es," answered Dot slowly, dropping upon one of the arms. "But for all its cleanness it's about as bare and as inviting as the contagious ward of a hospital, or the dining-room of a state's prison."

"Don't say discouraging things like that, Dot dear," pleaded Agnes, taking the other arm and snuggling her head against Catherine's cheek.

"A library isn't supposed to be a parlor, and that engraving is really valuable."

"I'd rather have a chromo that comes with soap, myself," said Bert. "Its cold steely look only adds to that hygienic and sanitary aspect Dot detected. It makes me homesick for sunflowers and red flannel."

"I have an idea," and Dorcas rose and departed with her usual abruptness.

As she went out of the door, Bess came in.

"O dear!" she said. "Are you all here? I hoped n.o.body would be."

"Shall we withdraw?" asked Bert. "We were just commenting on the barrenness of this place, but your presence causes it to blossom as the rainbow. We bask in the refulgence."

Bess laughed. "That's really what I came for, to prettify it a little.

It seemed such a pity not to have anything bright and attractive on the walls, so I made this at odd minutes. Do you all like it? I was going to put it up and surprise you."

She unrolled a big parcel she carried and the others, crowding around to see, looked upon a beautifully illuminated motto:

"G.o.d be thanked for books."

"Bess, you are an inspired angel," cried Polly, while Catherine gave her a squeeze which was meant to express pleasure and also compunction for more than one reflection that Bess was not doing her share for the library.

"And here comes another," exclaimed Agnes, running to open the door for Dorcas, staggering under the weight of a great armful of golden glow.

"Dorcas, you must have taken every stalk you had!"

"Well, and whose business is it, I'd like to know?" asked Dorcas briskly and justly. Polly shrugged her shoulders, but helped Bertha to find receptacles for the bright flowers, continuing to exclaim over their beauty, in spite of Dorcas' apparent indifference. It had not been Algernon alone who had been misunderstood at the beginning of the library campaign in Winsted. The flowers arranged effectively, and the motto given a place where it could be read from all parts of the room, the workers trudged off to their respective homes to make elaborate toilets before the "party" should begin.

Seven o'clock found the lamps lighted inside the little building, and j.a.panese lanterns making the freshly-mown weed patch a festive place, with little tables set for the ice-cream and cake which were to be served from the shed, leaving the library proper, clean and crumbless.

Bess and Winifred, with their attendant squires, were to act as Mrs.

Graham's lieutenants outside, and the other members of the club were variously on duty within. Dr. Helen a.s.sisted Algernon and the school superintendent in receiving--an unsectarian combination warranted to disturb no prejudice. Bertha, with a book and pen, was ready at the reading-table to receive and register gifts. Catherine sat at Algernon's desk to issue cards, and take in the annual fee of fifty cents. The other girls and boys were "floating," ready to entertain the guests, to explain the whole scheme, and see to it that every one was invited to the lawn for "light refreshments and ice-cream" as the _Courier_ had announced.

The fathers and mothers of the Boat Club were early arrivals, looking with proud amused eyes upon their spotless sons and daughters in their disinterested public zeal. First of all came Mrs. Swinburne in a long black net gown elaborately spangled, her hair coquettishly arranged in a Janice Meredith curl, several years out of date, a slender ivory-sticked fan, somewhat broken, swaying from her belt by a long ribbon. She plainly felt that her entrance should excite attention and was by no means disappointed. Dot and Polly took her in charge and stood by with grave courteous faces while she gave Bertha her contribution, wrapped up in tissue paper and white ribbon.

"It's a copy of _The Ring and The Book_ I got for Elsmere's Christmas last year. I wanted so to read it. I am devoted to Byron. But Algernon gave me the _Complete Works_, so that I felt I could give this away to advantage. It is a little damaged. The dear child uses his books to build stables with, but I knew that the public would not mind."

She arched her eyebrows in surprise when Catherine asked fifty cents for the card she made out for her. "As Algernon's mother, really, Miss Catherine, I did not expect--" and Catherine, catching Algernon's imploring glance from his position between the doctor and the superintendent, murmured an apology and gave the card.

Then Mrs. Swinburne sank delicately into the arm-chair, and rested her eyes upon the scene before her.

It was soon sufficiently animated. A whole family arrived at once, climbing out of a big farm wagon. Dot beckoned to Bert.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "'How much for your tickets?'"--_Page 77._]

"It's that man we talked to out on the Ridge Road."

"Is this your liberry?" asked a mighty voice from the doorway. "Where's the young fellow that invited us to come in this evening? O, it's you, is it? I didn't recognize you with those clothes on. Men folks didn't wear white pants in my day. Well, Mother, come along in. I guess they won't n.o.body bite you."

With this encouragement, a little washed-out looking woman slipped uncomfortably in, six children of various degrees of awkwardness stumbling after her, studiously avoiding the outstretched hands of the receiving committee. Dr. Helen stepped forward and took the woman's hand. The wan face under the dusty black straw hat lighted with the smile that Catherine loved to see her mother call forth.

"Clary," said the little woman proudly, "here's the doctor. Let her see how fat and well you be. Not much like she was that winter!"

Clary's father, meanwhile, was walking about the room with a tread that rattled the lamp-shades. He looked the books over with an air of wisdom, listened to Bert's talk in silence, and presently drew up at the desk where Catherine sat waiting for customers.

"How much for your tickets?"

"Fifty cents."

"Family rates?"

Catherine met the unforeseen question promptly.

"Where there are more than three in a family, the tickets are only thirty-five cents apiece."

"So. Well, give me one," and he drew a handful of small change from his pocket. "Holcomb's the name. Chester G. Holcomb."

Catherine inscribed the name in her pretty even hand upon a blue card, numbered it 2, and handed it to her patron. He laid down thirty-five cents and turned away.

"O," said Catherine, flushing softly. "You didn't understand. It is only when you get three cards that they are cheap like that."

Chester Holcomb, known as the biggest miser in the county, grunted.

"You said if they was more than three in the family, and they's six children besides ma and me. I knowed there was some skin game about this thing, somewheres. Here's your ticket and you give me back my money."

Catherine, almost as near tears as she had ever been in her singularly well-controlled existence, obeyed him.

"Good evening, Chester." Dr. Harlow had been standing near, and now decided to take a hand. "Let me introduce my daughter. Catherine, this is Mr. Holcomb, of whom you've heard us speak."

"The father of the dear twin babies?" asked Catherine, with a grateful throb for her father's help.

"That's them yonder," answered Chester Holcomb, swelling proudly. "Mate, bring the twins here, so't the doctor's gal can see 'em. Weighed five pounds when they was born, and look at 'em now! Best fatted live stock on the farm, I say, Doctor." And Mr. Holcomb's great laugh at his own witticism filled the room. Catherine, meanwhile, with the sincerity of a girl who really loves all babies, admired the plump twins to such a degree that their father felt himself melting with benevolence.

"Mate," he said suddenly, "think you'd like to read any of these here books? Doc, make you acquainted with my daughter Sadie. Graduated from the district school this spring and goin' to town High School this fall.

Guess the' ain't any of the readin'-matter here that's beyond Sadie!

Here, Miss, give us three of them tickets,--that one I had and two more.

Mrs. Chester Holcomb and Miss Sadie Ditto. There! Keep the change," and gathering up the three cards, he threw a silver dollar heavily upon the table and turned away. Catherine and her father looked at each other and laughed outright.

"No man has ever got the best of Chester in a bargain," said Dr. Harlow, "and I judge no woman ever will! Allow me to make up the deficit. It has been worth more than that as entertainment!"

By this time the room was full. It was a motley crowd, as all cla.s.ses of Winsted were represented. The would-be Smart Set in rather elaborate hats and gowns, mingled with the quieter Three R's, and their own maid servants and the "gentlemen friends" of the latter. All the standbys, who are always on hand at church doings and the County Fair, were out in force. There was the oldest inhabitant, bestowing his presence with the "nunc dimittis" air which had characterized him since old age had given him the distinction vainly sought in other fields. There was old Mis'

Tuttle in her best black and orange bonnet, and Emeline Winslow with her wig over one ear and a bouquet of artificial flowers under gla.s.s as her contribution. With her came Grandma Hopkins, whose name was the only nimble thing about her;--ponderous and elephantine, she had once, in calling upon a fragile little old lady, stumbled in the doorway and fallen upon her hostess, whose brittle bones had snapped under the strain. Polly and Dorcas const.i.tuted themselves a committee to look out for the elderly ones, taking great pains to keep Grandma Hopkins in open s.p.a.ces where a fall would do little damage. There was a very bony woman with a smile which was surprising, it was so soft and radiant. She brought a fat story of the Bible for the children, and offered Algernon flowers from her garden for all summer. "Flowers are good for the soul and the mind as well as books," she explained, "and if so be some one comes in and can't find the book they want, 'twon't hurt 'em to see a posy."

There was the Sloan family, decked out in the leavings of a milliner's shop and bringing as offering a worn copy of one of Mary J. Holmes'