Part 10 (1/2)
Miss South was silent for a moment. Then she responded, ”There are different kinds of poverty. Mrs. Rosa seems very poor to you, and it is true that she has not much money, but if you were to ask her I dare say that she would tell you that she is better off than when she lived in the Azores,” and then, as she saw that the girls were interested, Miss South continued, ”in Boston she can send her children to good schools, knowing that when they are old enough, they will find a way to earn a living. When she herself is out of work, or ill, she is not likely to suffer, for there are many people and inst.i.tutions in Boston looking out for the poor.”
”But they look so awfully poor now,” said Brenda. Miss South smiled. ”I would not try to make you less sympathetic, Brenda, but you must remember that a plain uncarpeted room when properly warmed is not so uncomfortable as it looks. The worst thing about Mrs. Rosa's way of living is the fact that she and her children are crowded into two small rooms. At night they bring a mattress from the little bedroom and spread on the kitchen floor. Three of the children sleep there, while Mrs. Rosa and the others sleep in the bedroom.”
”How can they possibly live that way!” said Nora, who, as a doctor's daughter, had pretty definite ideas on the subject of ventilation and hygiene.
”It is indeed a very bad way of doing,” said Miss South. ”The best way to help Mrs. Rosa would be to persuade her to take her family to some country town where they could have plenty of light and air.”
VIII
PLANNING THE BAZAAR
Brenda at the dinner-table that evening had much to say about the expedition of the afternoon. Or rather, she had much to tell about Manuel and his cunning little ways, about his mother and the poverty of the family and what she intended to do for them. Her mother smiled, her father looked interested and said,
”Well, I'm glad that you have found a use for your pocket money. I won't begrudge it to you as long as it does not all go into Schuyler's candy.”
Julia cried, ”Oh, Brenda, how I should love to have gone with you,” when Brenda spoke of the old church and the old streets. ”Do tell just what the church was like.”
But Brenda's ideas were less definite on these points. She wasn't exactly sure what Paul Revere had done--for history was not her strong point--and she was a little annoyed at Julia's surprise at her lack of interest. Julia did not mean to show any surprise, but it did seem strange to hear Brenda say rather impatiently in answer to a question about the church,
”Oh, well, it was a brown church,--no, I think it was gray, with a steeple, but I didn't notice much. Nora quoted some poetry, but I was in a hurry to go on to see Manuel, and I think that it's very tiresome to have to dig up history and things like that out of school.”
Mr. Barlow frowned at this. ”Before you go to the North End again I hope you will have your history and your Longfellow fresh in mind. It is rather a shame for a Boston girl to be ignorant of historic places in her own city.”
”Julia must go with you next time,” said Mrs. Barlow, wis.h.i.+ng to divert the conversation from Brenda's shortcomings.
”You'll let me know, won't you,” interposed Julia pleasantly, and Brenda gave a careless ”Yes” as she turned to her father and said,
”Oh, papa, I wish that you would let me buy a carpet and a lot of things for Manuel's mother. You have no idea how poor they seem. Do give me the money, that's a dear. You never will miss it in the world.”
”How much, Brenda, does your modesty lead you to think you need?” asked Mr. Barlow.
”Oh, I don't know,” answered Brenda, whose ideas of the value of money were very vague indeed. ”You might let me buy the things and have them charged.”
”Dear me! that would be worse than giving you the money--worse for my pocket. I suppose you'd want to do your shopping in some really fas.h.i.+onable Boylston Street establishment?”
”Now, papa, you're laughing at me!”
”Perhaps I am,” replied her father. ”But really, Brenda, I don't believe that Manuel's mother would thank you for a carpet. Didn't you say they all lived in one room? A bare floor is easier to keep clean.”
”Oh, well, I must buy them something, and my pocket money won't go far.
Besides, I've spent all you gave me this month.”
”Well, Manuel and his mother and all those brothers and sisters have lived in Boston very comfortably for several years without any help from you. If you should give them a carpet they might grow discontented. The next thing they would want might be a piano, and from what you say I hardly think that room would hold a piano as well as the whole family and the cook-stove.”
”Oh, papa, I believe that you are making fun of me.”
”No, indeed, I am not, but I wish you to be reasonable.”