Part 27 (1/2)

”Well,” continued the smiling girl, ”then there's their manners an'

things.”

Toby nodded vaguely.

”You'll need to give 'em bed at sundown,” Birdie hurried on. ”An' up at sunrise. Clothes needs was.h.i.+n' at least once a month--with soap.

See they says their prayers, an' bath 'em once a week reg'lar--with soap. But do it Sundays. An' after that give 'em a Bible talk for an hour. Then I dessay they'll need physic once a week--best give it Sat.u.r.day nights. Don't fix 'em that way same as a horse, their stummicks ain't made of leather. You got all that?”

Toby gave a bewildered nod.

”How 'bout when they're sick?” he asked.

”Sick? Why, see they don't muss their clothes,” Birdie answered cheerfully. ”Guess that's put you wise to most everything.”

”Sure.” Toby slid from the table, feeling dazed. Nor had he the courage to ask any more questions. He was trying hard to fix the salient points of the information in his whirling brain, but all he could remember was that all was.h.i.+ng must be done with soap, and the children must have bones to keep their teeth right. He clung to these things desperately, and felt that he must get away quickly before they, too, should slip through the sieve of his memory.

”Guess I'll git along an'--an' see to things,” he murmured vaguely, without glancing in Birdie's direction. ”You said beef bones?” he added, pa.s.sing a hand perplexedly across his forehead.

”Sure,” smiled the girl.

”Good. Thanks.” Then he moved heavily off. ”Beef bones and soap--bath an' Bible talk; beef bones an' soap--”

The girl watched him vanish behind the closing door, muttering as he went to ”see to things.”

She stood for some moments where he had left her. The smile was still in her eyes, but its humor had died out. She was unfeignedly sorry he had gone. He was such a good-natured simpleton, she thought. A real good-hearted sort. Just the sort to make a husband worth having. Ah, well, he had gone! Better luck next time.

She turned away with a deep, sentimental sigh, and crossed over to the cupboard. She drew out her work once more and again spread out the crumpled paper pattern upon the gossamer lawn.

Yes, Toby would have suited her well. She heaved another sigh. He had remittances from home, too. And he wouldn't be difficult to manage.

His head was rather a funny shape, and his face didn't suggest brightness, but then--

She began to snip at the material with her rusty scissors. But just as her mind had fully concentrated upon her task a sudden sound startled her. She looked up, listening, and the next moment the door was flung wide, and Sandy Joyce stood framed in the opening.

CHAPTER XIV

BIRDIE GIVES MORE ADVICE

The ordinary woman would probably have resented this second interruption, taking into consideration the nature of Birdie's occupation, and the fact that Toby's visit had hardly proved a success from her point of view. But Birdie was only partially ordinary. Her love and admiration for the opposite s.e.x was so much the chief part of her composition that all other considerations gave way before it. Her heart thrilled with a sickly sentiment at all times. To her men were the G.o.ds of the universe, and, as such, must be propitiated, at least in theory. In practice it might be necessary to flout them, to tease them, even to snub them--on rare occasions. But this would only come after intimacy had been established. After that her att.i.tude would be governed by circ.u.mstances, and even then her snubs, her floutings, her teasing, would only be done as a further lure, a further propitiation.

She loved them all with a wonderful devotion. Her heart was large, so large that the whole race of men could have been easily lost in its mysterious and obscure recesses.

Again her work was bundled into the cupboard, the poor flimsy pattern further suffering. But beyond a casual wonder if the garment would eventually be wearable, cut from so mangled a pattern, she had no real care.

Her smiling eyes turned readily upon the newcomer the moment her secret labors had been hidden from prying male eyes. And there was no mistaking her cordiality for this cold-eyed visitor.

”Sakes alive! but you do look fierce,” she cried challengingly. ”You sure must be in a bad temper.”

But Sandy's expression was simply the outcome of long and difficult consideration. As a matter of fact, in his hard way, he was feeling very delighted. His past married experience had brought him to the conviction that here was the only person in Suffering Creek who could help him.

And, furthermore, he was well satisfied to think that only his experience as a married man could have suggested to him this means of gaining the information required by their president, and so shown him the way to surpa.s.s his comrades in his efforts on behalf of the Trust.