Part 4 (1/2)
”That makes no difference at all,” said the kindly German woman, who knew Marty, as Mrs. Ashford generally dealt at the shop: ”you take it all the same, and bring the penny to-morrow--any day.”
”No, thank you, mamma wouldn't like me to do that,” answered Marty, hastening out to hide her tears. She was so sorry for Freddie's disappointment; and disappointed he was, for he had a good memory and immediately asked for his cake. Then there was a great crying scene, for Marty cried as heartily as he did, and their mamma had to comfort them both.
”I think, mamma,” said Marty, when Freddie had condescended to eat a piece of another kind of cake and quiet was restored, ”I think, after all, I'll not put _every_ cent of my money in the box, but will keep a little to buy things for dear little Freddie--and you,” giving her mother a squeeze.
”That will be best,” said Mrs. Ashford. ”I know you enjoy bringing us things sometimes.”
This was quite true. Marty was very generous, and nothing pleased her more than to bring home some modest dainty, such as her small purse would buy, and share it with everybody in the house, not forgetting Katie in the kitchen.
But her penniless condition brought her a harder time yet. The next day in school a sudden recollection flashed upon her that nearly took her breath away. She could hardly wait until school was dismissed to race home to her mother, to whom she managed to gasp,
”Oh, mamma! next Friday is Cousin Alice's birthday!”
”Is it?” said Mrs. Ashford calmly. ”What then?”
”Why, you know that letter-rack of silver cardboard that I have been making for her birthday, and counted so on giving her, isn't finished.”
”It is all ready but the ribbon, isn't it? It wont take long to finish.
I will make the bows for you.”
”But the ribbon isn't bought yet, and I haven't got a cent!” exclaimed Marty despairingly.
There were two very strict rules in connection with the money Marty received each week. One was she was never to ask for it in advance, and the other that she was not to borrow from any one, expecting to pay when she got her dime. If she spent all her money the first of the week, she had to do without things, no matter how badly she wanted them, till the next allowance came in. This was to teach her foresight and carefulness, her father said. Now she had no money and no expectation of any until Sat.u.r.day, when the birthday would be over. Of course there was all the money in the red box, but she did not dream of touching that. It was just as much missionary money as if it was already in the hands of the Board that Miss Agnes talked about.
”If I had any ribbon that would suit,” said Mrs. Ashford, ”I would give it to you; but I haven't. Besides, for a present it would be better to have new ribbon. How much would it cost?”
”Rosa Stevenson paid eight cents a yard for hers, and it takes a yard and a half--narrow ribbon, you know.”
”Then you will want twelve cents. I am sorry I cannot lend you the money, but it is against the rule, you know.”
”Yes, ma'am, I know,” Marty replied sorrowfully.
She was sadly disappointed, as she had been looking forward for several weeks to the time when she should have the pleasure of presenting the nicely-made letter-rack to her cousin. She did not grudge the money she had devoted to missions; she would like to have given much more if she could; but she began to see that Edith's way of giving according to system was the best. She was still very much interested in the heathen, but they seemed a little farther off than on Sat.u.r.day, while Cousin Alice and the letter-rack now absorbed most of her thoughts. She stood dolefully gazing out the window, not paying any attention to Freddie's invitation to come and play cable cars.
”Well, cheer up!” said her mother. ”We will find some way out of the difficulty. You try to think of some plan to get twelve cents, and so will I. Between us we ought to devise something.”
Marty brightened up instantly and looked eagerly at her mother, sure that relief was coming immediately. ”What is your plan, mamma?” she asked.
”Oh! I didn't say I had one yet,” said Mrs. Ashford, laughing. ”You must give me time to think; and you must think yourself.”
That was all she would say then, and Marty spent a very restless afternoon and evening trying to think of some way to earn or save that money, but could think of nothing that would bring it in time for Friday. At bedtime her mother inquired, ”Have you got a plan yet?”
”No, indeed. I can't think of a thing,” answered Marty, nearly as doleful as ever.
”How do you like this plan?” said Mrs. Ashford. ”I have some rags up in the storeroom that I want picked over, the white separated from the colored, and if you will do it to-morrow afternoon, I will give you fifteen cents.”
”Oh, I'll do it! I'll do it!” cried Marty in delight, kissing her mother. ”You're the best mamma that ever was!”